For a moment, I think he’ll rip my shirt open and continue his explorations, and my whole body seems to lock up like someone has fused all my joints together.
I think I should slap him in the face, but I’m a little afraid that if I touch him at all, I’ll end up pulling him closer, and I don’t want to risk it. So I do the next best thing I can think of and just remain absolutely still.
Finally, when my skin seems to be on the verge of spontaneously bursting into flames, he pulls his finger away.
“Very intense,” he purrs. “Very personal. But as lovely of an advocate as I’m sure you are, I don’t have time to waste on business ventures that are going to give me diminishing returns.”
“This isn’t a business venture,” I snap, bristling again. “This is a charity; a chance to help out animals. Stray dogs who need good homes and veterinary care. Not everything is about what you can get out of it physically, like money. You can get other things out of it too, like satisfaction.”
“I don’t think your charity is going to give me the kind of satisfaction I’m searching for,” Beckett replies, walking away to stand behind his desk before leaning over it, his fingers splayed over the wood. He’s not flirting with me anymore, or at least, he’s not just flirting. He’s the CEO now, the powerful businessman searching for a deal. “I’m going to need some kind of incentive. Is it going to help my public image? Is it going to be a tax write-off I can’t refuse?”
“It’s going to be helping sweet, fluffy little puppies.” I’m laying it on way too thick, and I know it. But I’m getting a little desperate here. “Look, I have some pictures…”
“I don’t want to see pictures.” Beckett narrows his eyes. He sounds annoyed now. “You think you’re the only sob story who’s ever tried to get something out of me?”
“Given the fact that I’m far from sobbing, I’m not sure that description fits, but I can start crying if you’d prefer,” I shoot back, starting to get annoyed myself. Sheesh. No wonder nobody’s ever been able to redeem the sins. This man is possibly the most annoying, selfish person I’ve ever met. I can’t believe I’m attracted to him.
No. No! I’m not attracted to him. Because that would be ridiculous. And insane.
I’m definitely not attracted to this guy.
Seriously.
Trying to rein in my temper, I take a deep breath and offer him a calm smile. “Fine. No picture. But if you’re wondering what’s in it for you, of course helping a charity is going to aid your public image. How could it not?”
“I already donate to charities,” he says with a shrug. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to impress me. If I pick your charity, I would have to get rid of another one of my charities to make up for it and stay on-budget for my company’s allotted donations.”
“Oh, because you certainly can’t afford, with all of your billions in revenue, to give another few thousand or so to one more charity?” I blurt. “That would simply be unthinkable. However would you manage to buy another small country, another fleet of private jets, and another castle in Europe?”
Yup. I’ve definitely lost control of this meeting, right along with my temper.
But I keep having flashbacks of the guy who called the Wondercom customer service line right before I lost my old job. He was scrimping and saving every penny he could to help his family. The man in front of me actually has money, and he refuses to spend a cent of it unless it benefits him.
There’s a flicker in Beckett’s eyes, like he’s genuinely interested, perhaps even impressed, by my standing up to him like this. I’m pretty certain I’ve ruined my chances of getting anywhere with him today, but I’m not going to give up. Even if that means I just annoy him to the ends of the earth until I wear him down. I have no choice but to keep going.
Maybe other people can afford to give up, but I can’t.
Not on this.
“Your disdain for my lifestyle is noted, and somewhat amusing,” Beckett growls, sounding almost like a tiger, as if just the barest hint of the supernatural is peeking out of him, and I shiver.
I’m not sure if I’m scared or turned on.
Possibly both.
Okay, fine, so maybe I am just the littlest bit attracted to this guy. Maybe. But that’s just because he’s one of the seven sins. They were literally created to be as alluring as possible, as tempting and attractive as possible, so that people will fall under their spell and give in to whatever their particular sin is. It doesn’t mean anything, and I’m not going to let it affect my job. Especially when he’s being so aggravating.
“I’m a very busy man, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Beckett adds, settling back into the chair behind his desk like he’s already moving on and is bored with me. That stings, oddly, in a way I don’t quite understand—the idea that I’m boring him. “So, since we are at an impasse, I suggest you go on about your day. I’m sure there are plenty of other rich snobs who haven’t bought an island yet who you could con out of their hard-earned wages.”
He gives me a smirk, like he thinks he’s hilarious with his little quips, then does a shooing motion toward the door with his hand.
The gesture is clear.
I’ve been dismissed.
Chapter Seven
Trinity
I leave, because I’m so burning mad that I don’t know what to do with myself.
No wonder no other angels wanted this mission. It’s going to be nearly impossible. I’m on my first sin out of seven and already I’m feeling annoyed and exhausted. What if the others are even worse and harder to deal with?
Natalie, the secretary, is perfectly nice about pointing me toward the nearest restroom, where I brace my hands against the sink and take several deep, steadying breaths. That helps me to calm down like it always does.
Squaring my shoulders, I look at myself in the mirror and take myself in.
I’m not a bad looking human, if I do say so myself. I like how I look. But there’s something missing; this isn’t my full, angelic form. And I miss that. I miss looking myself in the eyes and seeing myself. Seeing all that I am.
I unfurl my wings, shaking them out a little. Now I look more like myself. My true self.
“You can do this,” I tell my reflection, putting on my most determined expression. If I’m going to get back to Heaven, get back home, then I can’t give up. I have to do this. I have to convince the seven sins to side with us in the war, and to fight against the corrupted.
“What is home worth to you?” I ask myself. “Huh?”
Everything, I answer silently.
I can do this.
Rather than marching back into Beckett’s office with guns blazing, I go downstairs to the lobby of the building where there’s a ridiculously overpriced coffee shop. Then I order some food and a drink, and I wait.
And… wait.
Beckett works late. Later than usual, which is saying something. Since I’ve been trailing him invisibly for a week, I’ve got his schedule down pretty well. The last rays of sunlight are fading outside the large windows when Beckett finally emerges from the lobby elevator.