Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 2(71)

“A glass of water with a lemon slice. Thanks.”

He scowled as he waved our waitress over and ordered my drink.

“Look, I’m not trying to be rude. I make a living helping single men find their perfect match. I learned a long time ago never to mix business with pleasure.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he studied me. “I never said I was interested in hiring a matchmaker.”

“You kept my card.”

He lifted his brows. “Why do you think that might be?”

“Because you’ve decided to go to a weekend mixer, of course.”

The corners of his mouth curled up. “No.”

“You’re considering passing it on to someone else? A friend, maybe?”

“No, I’m not passing it on to someone else.”

The waitress zigzagged through the crowd to our table and plunked down a tall glass of water in front of me. Tevin stuffed his hand into his pocket, pulled out a wad of bills and flipped off a few to hand to her. She ran off with a big grin on her face.

“Okay, so you’re not giving it to someone else,” I said, giving him my best sales game face as I stirred my water with the straw, “and you haven’t decided to come to a mixer. I should warn you, if you call me, I’m determined to make you change your mind about Premier.”

He laughed. It was a glorious sound. And what it did to his face, his eyes...wow. Some lucky woman was going to thank me for this one day. He lifted one brow. “Change my mind? How do you plan on doing that?”

“Well...” I drummed my fingertips on the tabletop. “I won’t challenge you to a dance off, that’s for sure.”

There was that laugh again. A low rumble that sent pleasant vibrations thrumming through my body. “Maybe I could make a suggestion?”

“You’re going to tell me what to do to seal the deal?” I plunked both elbows down on the table and, leaning forward, rested my chin on my fists. “I’m all ears.”

“You’re a savvy business woman. I’m a businessman. We both understand that striking a deal requires a little give and take from both parties.”

“Sure.” I wasn’t certain I liked where this seemed to be heading.

“How about I agree to sign a contract with Premier, but on one condition?”

You know the feeling that you get when you know somebody is about to drop a bomb on your head? Or, the feeling that something unpleasant is going to fly up in your face and knock you on your ass, but you can’t avoid it? That’s what I was feeling as I asked, “What condition is that?”

“I’ll sign with Premier if you agree to go on one date with me for every event I attend.”

Yep, there it was. And there I was, in an impossible quandary.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, reminding myself that he didn’t know how much this meant to me. A new contract meant the difference between homelessness and having a roof over my head. I needed this contract.

But dating clients was strictly forbidden.

And why would he want to date me, anyway? I wasn’t an Ivy League graduate, like our girls. I didn’t have perfect hair and teeth and manners. And I was nowhere close to model thin.

Why was he playing this game with me? Why?

Taking away the fact that it was just plain cruel--him acting like he might be seriously interested in me--this was a lose-lose prospect for me, no matter how I looked at it.#p#分页标题#e#

“Tevin...?” Throwing away my pride, and casting aside all attempts at appearing as the wheeling, dealing saleswoman I knew I wasn’t, I gave him my best sad-puppy-eyes. At this point groveling wasn’t beneath me. “Please. I know you’re not serious about wanting to date me. So drop it.”

He crossed his arms and shook his head. “That’s my final offer, Daryl. Take it or leave it.”





Chapter 2

I was so screwed.

Already I could hear my aunt’s voice in my head. So you’ve come back again? Already?

I told you, you wouldn’t make anything of your life. You aren’t smart. You aren’t beautiful. You aren’t clever. No, you’re just like you mother. Your murdering mother.

I gritted my teeth. Why was Tevin Page playing me? Was he really that much of a jerk?

I should just tell him to fuck off.

I could.

But then I’d lose a client.

I couldn’t afford to lose a client.

Especially a client that Marguerite herself had been trying to snag.

There was no choice.

He extended a hand, one brow raised. “One date for every event. Will you accept or decline?”

I placed my hand in his and gave it a shake. “I accept. But you cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone about our little arrangement. Ever.”