Page 61 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
Yes. Yes, he is. Great.
How do I reply to this delicately? I don’t want him reconsidering the deal he just struck with my boobs—I mean, me. I scramble for a diplomatic answer.
“I think I’ll be burning the midnight oil for some time just to make absolutely sure Seven Sinners stays as profitable as I know it’s going to be for a long time to come.”
Bunt smiles. “Then how about dinner in the restaurant upstairs? Surely the boss gets to take time to eat in her own establishment?”
He’s not going to let me get out of this easily, is he?
“Of course. It’s my humble opinion that Odile rivals the best chefs in town.”
“Great. Then how about tomorrow night?”
I smile while gritting my teeth. The man doesn’t understand the word subtle in the least. “Let me check with my assistant. She knows my calendar better than I do. I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Good. I’ll expect a call from you tomorrow.” He hands me his card. “My cell number is on here as well. Only my favorite clients get this one.”
“Wow. Thank you. I don’t know what to say,” I reply, and it’s the absolute truth.
“Just say yes to dinner, Keira. I’d love to get to know you better.”
Finally, the excuse I should have been using all along snaps into my brain, and I smile sadly. “In the interest of full disclosure, Lloyd, I’m really still . . . in a grieving period, so friendship is all I’m capable of right now.”
His smile reflects his sympathy for all of two seconds. “I absolutely understand. I think we could be great friends, Keira. It would further our working relationship too. When I have a vested interest in certain clients, I go above and beyond to make sure their files are kept on my desk, instead of . . .”
He doesn’t finish the rest of his sentence, but it’s implied. If I agree to dinner, he’ll make sure to keep my loan out of workout. Then again, I’m not naive enough to think his expectations would end with dinner.
“I’ll be in touch, Keira.” He gives me another smarmy smile as he rises from the chair and gathers my loan documents to tuck them in his briefcase. When he finishes, he pauses. “I’m really looking forward to dinner.”
To him, it’s a foregone conclusion.
I nod as he leaves my office, and can’t help but think that his suit hangs on him like a little boy playing dress-up. Nothing like the way Mount’s fit him to perfection, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
My unruly brain adds broad shoulders you clawed with your nails . . . and I shut it down. I shouldn’t even be making a comparison between the two men.
And if Mount knew what Bunt suggested . . . I shiver at the thought of what might happen to my banker.
I still wonder if Mount has cameras in my office, and if he does, whether they’re wired for sound too. It’s a question I should ask, but the man with the granite features that I left this morning isn’t one who will give me any answers.
I sit back down at my desk and stack my copies of the loan documents to return them to their file. Seven Sinners is barely staying in the black. These events have to come through, or I’m going to need a miracle.
Before I can contemplate the topic further, there’s a knock on my door and Temperance pokes her head in.
“How’d it go?”
The smile I shoot her way is genuine. “Seven Sinners will live to fight another day. Hopefully many, many days.”
“I knew you could do it.” Her gaze skims over my dress. “And your outfit is on point, boss. You’ve stepped it up in the fashion department for these meetings. Smart.”
&
nbsp; I can’t admit that I had nothing to do with these choices, but I suppose I should be grateful they worked in my favor, even if my last two business victories leave a bad taste in my mouth because they feel manipulative.
But I’m not the one manipulating things here, I remind myself.
I don’t need to use my boobs to succeed in business, but Mount’s point was again hammered home this morning. I have been oblivious to how men looked at me, and now I’m hypersensitive to it.
Another knock sounds on the door. I expect Louis to pop his head in, but it’s an unfamiliar face.
