_OceanofPDF

Logan sat in the chair across from me. He reached inside his jacket for
an envelope and put it on the table between us. “In a few hours, you’re not
going to need a job.”
“I told you. This isn’t a job. It’s a promise to my father.”
“And I told you. He’s d—”
“Stop. Don’t say it. I know he’s dead. Okay? Just…” I snapped up the
envelope. “Just stop before I decide I can’t live with you.”
He looked out the window and rubbed his chin. The Roman bridge of
his nose was visible in profile, and the jut of his jaw was more pronounced.
So unfair for such a rich man to be that handsome. He was one hundred
eighty pounds of injustice in a size eleven shoe.
I unfolded the contract and laid it out, scanning past the monthly cash
allowance (ten grand), the car (whatever I wanted), the diamond ring (mine
to keep), and the term (three years).
“You said one year,” I said, getting a red pen from a cup on the coffee
table.
“It may take longer.”
“Nope,” I said. “If you can’t get what we want out of this in a year, you
have no business running that company.”
“And you won’t have one to run.”
He was right, but so was I.
“One year,” I said, scratching a line over the term and replacing it with
twelve months. I tapped the pen point on a paragraph. “And this? I’m not
changing my name.”
“You and Olivia are the only women in the world who don’t want to be
Mrs. Crowne.”
“That will never be part of the deal.”
Redline. He could call it off if he didn’t like it. I stopped reading long
enough to catch him grinning at me. His smile had an authenticity to it, as if
it was involuntary, and he’d be shocked to learn he wasn’t completely
stone-faced.
I went back to the contract without telling him.
The next paragraph made my skin tingle. My mouth went dry and my
core went liquid with possibilities. Recent test results for sexually
transmitted diseases were available, and by signing, I agreed to the same. I
was about to ask him what made him think that was something either of us
should worry about, when I saw the next paragraph.