The Bachelor Contract(3)

Wars had been fought in this very room.

Business deals won.

Lives destroyed.

This was one battle he wasn’t going to lose. Not a chance in hell.

“Yes.” Grandfather.

“No.” Brant.

It had been fifteen minutes; it was as if the damn man practiced the art of not blinking under pressure.

Click, click. “All day.” Brant leaned forward, pointing the pen in his grandfather’s direction. “I can do this all day.”

Grandfather’s eye twitched. “No, you really couldn’t. You’d start getting the shakes, and then you’d start sweating, your knee would bounce in agitation as your parched mouth dried up like the damn Sahara—I’m calling your bluff.”

Brant swallowed, and then did it again just to prove to himself that he was fine, his mouth wasn’t dry. He wasn’t having the shakes, and he sure as hell didn’t need alcohol to get through the day—he just wanted it, because it made things easier.

Since when have you wanted the easy way out?

Bitterness lodged in his throat.

Since he’d done the right thing and gotten fucked.

Since being kind, good, and hardworking got him nothing.

Since her.

“Yes.” Grandfather towered over the mahogany desk, his fingers digging into the wood grain. “You’re an ungrateful, depressed little shit, so your answer is yes.”

“The hell it is!”

“Am I late?” A familiar female voice interrupted their argument, a door slammed, and with each click-clack of her heels, Brant felt his testicles actually shrinking from fear. He wouldn’t put it past the woman to grab and twist; she’d done it before. Not to him, thank God, but she wasn’t the type of woman one said no to.

“Brant!” Nadine Titus, aka Satan’s mistress, placed a well-manicured hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He flinched as her razor-sharp nails dug into his skin. The last thing a man wanted was claw marks from a psychotic eighty-nine-year-old woman who screwed his grandfather on a regular basis. “It’s been what? A week?”

“Two days,” he corrected. “But who’s counting?”

Nadine Titus was an enigma. The type of woman who meddled in everyone’s business regardless of race, religion, relation—she manipulated, she controlled—it wouldn’t surprise him at all if Vladimir Putin was her bridge partner.

“Sorry I’m late.” She released his shoulder. Her floral perfume was so strong, he sucked in a breath and coughed. “I had a few minor details to clear with the resort.”

Dread crept along Brant’s spine.

“Did he say yes?” Her eyes held a challenging glint.

“No.” Brant smirked. “And I’m not going to say yes. Besides, don’t you have other employees to torture? Family? Puppies?”

“Of course I do.” Her smile widened. “I just prefer working with jackasses.”

Grandfather hacked out a cough while Brant tried to keep himself from showing any hint of amusement.

“How are your grandsons?” He changed the subject, sliding the pen into his pocket and leaning back into the smooth leather chair. “And the great-grandchildren? Didn’t the youngest just have a recital?” The only way to fight with Nadine was to fight dirty—he made it his business to Facebook-stalk the hell out of her family so that he’d have something—anything—to use against her.

Nadine’s smile fell. “Yes, and I wouldn’t have had to miss that lovely recital had you gotten your shit together and gone through with the auction weekend.”

“Damn, did I miss that?” Brant snapped his fingers. “And the answer’s still no. I won’t go through with it. I won’t see her.” And just because neither of them flinched, he said it again. “That ship’s already sailed.” He stood. “We done here?”

“He’s hired.” Nadine’s red lips spread into an evil grin. Was it his imagination, or was she growing horns before his eyes?

“I didn’t apply for a job,” Brant said dumbly.

“He’ll do just fine.” Grandfather nodded his head and pulled out a portfolio, opening it to the first page. “Just sign here, Brant.”

“Why does it feel like I’m getting sold into slavery?”

“Oh, honey.” Nadine tapped her red nail against her equally red pout. “You should be so lucky.”

“I think my sperm just died,” Brant mumbled, rubbing his face with both hands.

“Not like they were being put to good use anyway.” Nadine smiled sweetly. “Now, I think you’ll be happy to know that I’m giving you a hefty signing bonus, a gorgeous corner office, and naturally, the only person above you—will be me.”