She shrugged. “I don’t care what you think of me.”
Adrien cocked his head. “Interesting.”
Was his hair naturally that jet black? How were his eyes so light and silvery? He was beautiful, refined, the face of an angel and the body of a fighter. And he looked as if he were trying to decide whether he hated her or not.
That matched with reviews.
Dante got to his feet then, sliding his hands into the pockets of his tight suit pants, stretching them slightly, and she had to fight to keep her eyes level with his. “Why are you here if you’re going to mock us?” he asked.
“I can help you,” she said, moving to an empty couch in the middle of two others. “If you all take a seat, we can talk.”
That was if the sheer power of the pheromones in the room didn’t get to her first.
“Why would you help us?” Adrien asked, surprising her by moving closer. He stood in front of the couch next to hers and then sat on it stiffly. “What do you want?”
Dante seemed as shocked as she was by Adrien’s action, and he joined Adrien on his couch, taking the seat closest to her, glaring.
He reminded her of a suspicious cat.
A big one.
“Sever,” Dante called, relaxing into the couch as Adrien sat back a bit from him. “Come over here and stop being rude.”
Sever let out a huff and slammed his book down before dragging himself over to the couch on the other side of her. He made the ground rumble as he sat. He was the biggest of all three. “What do you want?”
She looked between them, taking in Adrien’s air of cold disdain, Dante’s confusion, and Sever’s lack of interest. “You all aren’t as bad as your reviews imply.”
“You know how to keep your hands to yourself,” Adrien said coolly, keeping his arms folded.
Ah, that made sense. Men like this probably made women a little frisky. Maybe they weren’t being clear enough in advertising that this wasn’t a Chippendales situation. That was something she could help with.
“Sounds like there needs to be tighter rules about client contact.”
Adrien sat up a little straighter.
“I think it’s fine,” Dante said tightly. “Everything’s fine.”
“Fine?” she asked, pulling out her phone. “Sure, if you want to close down. With reviews like ‘this place should be called Douchebag, Inc.,’ that’s what’s going to happen.”
Sever let out a snort.
Dante stiffened. “We’re figuring it out. We’re fine. If you’re going to insult us, then we don’t need you.”
She looked into his stubborn gold eyes, so much colder than she expected them to be.
She’d expected the others would be caustic, but she’d thought at least Dante would be complementary and willing to gloss things over. She’d read he was a suck-up who lived to please women and be admired for it.
Not with her apparently.
And since she wouldn’t consider hiring either of the others, there was really no point in wasting any more of her time.
What was she going to do now? This had been her last hope.
She stood, brushing her skirt off and averting her eyes. “Fine. I’m leaving. I’d say it was nice to meet you, but I honestly can’t.” She waved as she walked on stiff legs back to the door. “Good luck with your flailing business.”
She heard murmurs behind her but strode out of the room before anyone could say anything to stop her. Not that they tried.
As she let the door swing shut and walked to Citrine’s office to tell him the deal was off, she felt her walls go up around her. She’d been stupid to hope for a simple solution, but she’d adjust and figure out something else.
She always did.
Dante shifted awkwardly as the other dragons stared at him, aghast.
He couldn’t even defend himself, and was frankly sick at the way Ella had looked at him before fleeing the scene. She’d been trying to put on an air of defiance, but Dante had seen the pain in her eyes.
“Damn. What was that?” Adrien asked.
“I agree,” Sever said, seeming more amused and engaged than he’d been in sometime. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Dante said.
“You, the pleaser, being all cold,” Sever said.
“Yeah, you’re the nice one. The one who makes women like you.” Adrien cocked a dark brow, dyed to match his hair. “I’ve never observed you being a jerk like that.”
“I wasn’t a jerk,” Dante said defensively, putting a hand through his hair, making it stand up in all directions. “She was being condescending and rude and looking at us like meat, and—”