“Anyway.” She sighed. “With my new inheritance from Rumi, I would have enough capital to make a bank interested enough with loaning the money to purchase the building on Madison Ave.”
“We won’t have to try too hard to get a bank interested. Many will do business with me. They just want a squeaky-clean name on the documents.”
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
She let out a long breath. “So. . .about my name being on the documents.”
“You’re my washer.”
“Yes.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh. “I was just wondering how long I would be your washer.”
“You think this is just a temporary deal?”
“I was thinking I could wash for you until you’ve dealt with this Rumi situation and found a new person. Of course, my brother would be released safely to me by then.”
I smirked. “Of course.”
She took off her sunglasses and hit me with those dazzling brown eyes that made me think of chocolate on my tongue.
“Could we work out a temporary arrangement?” she asked. “Six months. A year.”
“You don’t like the idea of being in bed with me forever?”
At the mention of the word bed, she blinked, but grabbed control of her reaction. “I don’t like to be in bed with anyone forever.”
Interesting.
I raised my eyebrows. “No dreams of marriage and kids?”
“I. . .I thought we were talking about business.”
“We are. I’m just wondering.”
“Correct. No dreams of marriage and kids. And no dreams of a full-time. . .employer either.”
“Have I offended you?” I asked.
“No.”
“Do I smell? Am I unpleasing to look at?”
Her breath hitched in her throat as she cleared her throat and answered, “No. You smell. . .good, and you’re handsome.”
My entire life, women told me I was handsome. But women tended to say those things when one was the most powerful man in the room. Never did I truly believe their compliments.
Yet, hearing Emily say it made me feel different.
“You like to be the boss of yourself?”
“Yes.” She nodded as if excited that I understood.
I reached out my hand and touched one of the thousands of little spiral curls. I couldn’t help myself. I’d been wanting to run my fingers through them since I’d first spotted her.
Is this another disguise, mysh?
Against all sanity, I pulled a curl close to me, wanting to reveal what she was hiding underneath the wig.
Her head went with my hand. “Ouch.”
I let go. “Sorry.”
“What. . .?” She opened her mouth, gave me a crazy look, and then laughed. “No disrespect, but what were you doing?”
I pointed at her hair. “This isn’t a wig?”
“No.” Her cheeks rose with humor as if she was keeping more laughter back and doing a bad job of it. “This is my hair.”
“You took it out of the braids?”
“Yes.”
“But that was a lot of work.”
“It doesn’t matter. My hook-up braids fast.”
“So, she’ll do another design again?”
“Maybe.” She quirked her eyebrows. “Do you really like hair?”
“No. I really like uniqueness. It always traps my attention, and so far, you’ve intrigued me.”
Her smile fell away. She was smart enough to know that my attention would not be one of a regular man. Men like me collected things that we liked. We held onto them, never letting go, never giving them their freedom.
“So, that is why you didn’t sleep last night? You stayed up doing research, thinking this through and trying to find the best way to get rid of me, without pissing me off,” I said. “You wanted to wash a huge amount of money for me fast. You figured billions would do the job. How could I say no? And then I would give you Darryl and set you free, having another washer to simply watch the building.”
She put those glasses back on, turned away, and stared out of the window. “And your thoughts on my plan? Was it foolish or am I getting warm?”
“Yes. You’re getting very warm, mysh. So close, it’ll be hot soon. But it’s not going in the direction you’re hoping for.”
She continued to gaze out the window, never giving me a reaction.
She’s back to hiding. At least, I’ve got to see a little of her today.
The limo stopped in front of a five-level building right at the center of the Financial District. It was a neighborhood located at the southern tip of Manhattan stacked with corporate offices and the headquarters of many major financial institutions. But the district’s namedroppers were the New York Stock Exchange, the Federal Reserve, and Wall Street. It was where Rumi’s lawyer’s office was located.
Emily had been right. We were going to sign over his money to her and begin the process of her washing my money.
We sat there in silence.
I wouldn’t let us leave until she’d said something. I had to know her level of commitment. It didn’t matter if she wanted to work with me or not. What mattered was if she was so desperate to be free of my hold that she tried to escape—or even worse—went to authorities.
After a few minutes, she turned my way and broke the silence. “I understand your position. I’m wondering, if you would be open to a compromise in the future. . .when things are less stressful.”
“Compromise?”
“There could be something that I could do for you that could be more valuable than my washing.”
“Something to give you your freedom?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.” I loved her line of thinking, but doubted she was envisioning what I was. “What comes to your mind now?”
“I will wash as much money as you need—”
“You’ll do that regardless. I want a kiss.”
She opened her mouth in shock. “A kiss?”
“Yes.”
“You’re. . .you’re playing around.”
“I am, but you must agree that a kiss would help your negotiation.”
“I. . .I don’t kiss. . .the people I work for.”
“I’ve heard about the people you work for. That’s a smart rule.”
Luka opened her side of the door.
She stepped out, probably nervous I was going to kiss her. I’d been thinking about it. I climbed out after Emily. Luka waited on her side.
I touched her arm before she could walk toward the building.
She faced me.
“You brought up some good points,” I said. “And you’ve impressed me with your research on the building purchases last night.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll think about what you said in the limo.”
She sighed. “Thank you.”
I gestured to Luka. “Let’s go.”
And then she turned around, studied the building, and didn’t move. “No.”
Through her sunglasses, I caught her eyes darting from side to side as if counting something or someone.
“Umm. . .we should really get back into the limo—”
“Why?” I asked.