Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Gannon’s brows tug together as he takes my hand in his. His palm swallows my fingers, and his skin scratches against mine. The contact sends sparks through my body. Holy hell.
He shakes my hand snugly before releasing it. My arm falls to the side as I fight to maintain decorum. He doesn’t miss a detail. He also doesn’t react.
I clear my throat again. “Did you know that two-thirds of homes in America have at least one houseplant? Because they do. Unfortunately, many people don’t know how to care for them.”
“Fascinating,” Gannon deadpans.
“It is fascinating. I’m glad you agree.” I give him a fake, broad smile before heading to Tate’s sad, little succulent. “What do you feel when you look at this, Gannon?”
I hold the pot up in my hand.
“I generally try not to feel anything, if possible,” he says. “Can we cut to the chase? While this is riveting, I have things to do this afternoon.”
Tate looks at me and shrugs as if saying I warned you.
“Absolutely.” I set the plant down and face Gannon. “Let’s cut to the chase. You need me, Gannon Brewer.”
“I need you?” He scoffs under his breath. “I’m not sure where you got that impression, but I assure you, I don’t need anyone.”
I grin. “Who hurt you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m kidding.” I blow out a breath. Kind of. “Look, you’re a successful businessman. You’ve obviously spent a lot of time and money to create a solid reputation for Brewer Group. That’s respectable.”
“I’ll sleep well tonight knowing you think that.”
Even sarcasm looks good on the man. Oof.
I point at him. “But you’d sleep better if you were surrounded by happy, healthy plants all day. That’s a scientific fact.”
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, twisting his lips in dissatisfaction. “The point?”
“The point is that when I walked in today, I noticed a weak spot in your business—one I can fix.”
“Which is …?”
“The philodendron in the lobby downstairs is one drink away from death. It’s absolutely dreadful.”
Gannon exhales, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
“Wait!” I step between him and the door. “I know you think I’m just blowing smoke, but I’m not.”
“Actually, this isn’t how I imagine you looking when blowing—”
“Stop. Please,” Tate groans, pained.
I ignore the butterflies in my stomach, erase the mental imagery in my head, and focus on paying the bills.
“Tell me this,” I say, imploring Gannon to listen. “Do you want potential clients to think you can’t commit to projects and are coldhearted?”
“Why not? They wouldn’t be that far off from the truth.”
I sigh, my frustration growing. “I can come in a few times a week and change that experience. When people come in, they’ll see things thriving. They’ll feel energized. Your staff will be happier and healthier, too.”
Gannon leans forward. “If you haven’t picked up on this, Carys Johnson, I don’t really care if people are happy or not.”
Bastard.
“I’m cheap,” I say, trying not to beg.
“Good to know. Now, if you’ll step to the side, I need to change and get to a meeting.”
“You’re going to regret this decision.”
He winces. “Doubtful.”
“Do you want to see my cleavage?” Yup. That just came out of my mouth.
I start to cringe but stop. I’m this far in. Might as well play it off with confidence.
Gannon’s eyes widen for a split second before they drop to my chest.
“Carys, so help me God, I’m going to kill you,” Tate says through clenched teeth.
“Tate, I was only kidding,” I say before glancing at Gannon and winking.
Gannon runs a hand along his jaw and refuses to make eye contact with me.
“I’m desperate if you haven’t noticed,” I say, pouting. “Don’t make me go back to insurance.”
He steps to the right, but I step in front of him. He’s not getting away from me this easily.
“I’m supposed to meet with a CEO tomorrow for a consultation,” I warn, moving again to stay between him and the door. “I told Tate I’d give you first dibs since he and I are best friends, and I’ll give you a great deal.”
“One question,” he says, coming to a standstill.
I stop, too. “Shoot.”
He grins. “Do you always bring a matcha latte, or was today a special occasion?”
“Your boorishness has no effect on me, Mr. Brewer.” I smile prettily. “You don’t intimidate me.”
He licks his lips. “If I give you my business card, will you move out of my way?”
I want to say no, but I think he might pick me up and set me aside. Although the thought of Gannon’s hands on me is tempting, I’ve probably pushed my luck too far today already. Besides, if he leaves, it’ll give me time to come up with another angle of attack.
“Fine,” I say, sighing.
Gannon slides a hand into his pocket and pulls out a cream-colored business card with matte black and gold font. He plops it in my hand without touching me.