“The problem is you’re acting like an entitled bitch. That’s the problem.”
“What! Screw you, Trevor!”
“No, screw you,” he threatened. His tone took a firm, chippy twist as he continued. “I’m not giving you any money, Madds. That’s the deal, like it or not.”
“Stop calling me that, you sonofabitch!”
Trevor chuckled. I couldn’t tell if it was at my outburst or at his own sense of self-satisfaction. Either way, I didn’t care for it one bit.
“Look, if you change your mind, you know where to find me and if you can’t remember how, just ask your butt to make the call for you.”
And then, before I uttered another sound, he hung up on me.
“Shit!” I yelled as I slammed my phone down on living room table.
For several seconds I remained motionless while I tried to process the implications of Trevor’s refusal. Just then, a bizarre odor of melting plastic and burnt tomato caught my attention.
Holy crap! The microwave!
Frantic, I ran to the kitchen to see the entire room shrouded in an acrid white cloud. I grabbed a kitchen towel and covered my nose and mouth as I walked to the oven. As I opened the door, a disgusting melted pile of meat sauce, noodles and plastic oozed out.
“Uuunnnhh!!!!” I groaned into the towel, my eyes beginning to water from exposure to the toxic cloud that hung heavy in the kitchen.
Maybe Trevor was right.
What the hell was I thinking?
Nothing about this whole plan had worked out from the beginning. It was just one misstep after another. I shook my head in disgust as I realized the clean-up chore ahead of me in the kitchen and bit my lip in frustration at the idea that the situation with Greyson was probably beyond repair as well.
GREY
As much as I enjoyed doing deals, I think I liked the process of negotiation even more. From an early age I learned that to win in business you had to have an edge. And, most important of all, never allow the person you’re dealing with to discover it. Because if they do, you’ve already lost.
That philosophy hadn’t let me down yet and I had no intention of changing it. Sure, I was aggressive and tough, but I was also fair. It was the same way in romantic matters. ‘Love is a battlefield’ as the saying goes. Above all else, I prided myself on patience and being able to walk away from any deal if the outcome wasn’t what I wanted, romantic or otherwise.
With respect to my meetings that day, everything went as planned, as far as I was concerned. The same, however, could not be said for my dinner with Maddie that evening. In fact, ever since she picked me up in the limo after my meeting, she’d been quiet.
She was keeping something from me. What, I didn’t know and why, I had no clue.
Yet something inside told me I needed to find out what it was, and soon. I had no intention of not closing the deal with her and if she believed the silent treatment gave her an edge over me, she was in for quite the surprise.
“Greyson,” she began, as she took a sip of her wine. “It’s just some personal stuff. Really, it’s nothing for you to concern yourself over.”
I nodded as I finished a bite of my perfectly salted, rare, filet mignon. After swallowing it, I glanced at Maddie for a moment and then picked up my own wine glass. Deep red, near crimson, liquid streaked along the interior of the glass as I swirled before I took a sip. I rolled the heady mix across my tongue and allowed the oak notes to permeate my senses as I contemplated a response.
My study of her didn’t go unnoticed.
“What?” she said. “Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t you believe me?”
After placing my wine glass back on the table, I leaned back in my chair a bit and looked at her without a response. Maddie held my gaze for a few seconds and then shifted in her seat before attempting to match my posture by leaning back in her chair as well.
“Greyson. What is going on? Do you think I’m lying to you?”
I winced a little at the question.
“Lying?” I said, as I folded my hands on the edge of the table. “No, I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re lying, Maddie, no.”
“Thank you,” she said with a sincere tone to her voice. “Well, I’m glad to hear that at least.”
“Hang on,” I interrupted. “I said I didn’t think you were lying to me. That’s doesn’t mean I think you’re being truthful, however.”
“You’re talking in circles, Greyson. Either I’m telling you the truth or I’m not. Which is it?”