“It is. I know this because if I were to let her go at your insistence, she would come back to me. And, unfortunately, you would then lose her. I do not want that.”
“Thank you for your consideration.” Again with even more sarcasm now.
His smile is so amused, it’s insulting. “Let me prove myself to you instead. I’m willing to do that.”
Now, it’s my turn to consider him, this time in a new light. “I suppose I can do that much.”
He grins. “As for my family, they’ve already met her. No, she is not Italian, but they love her all the same. So you do not have to worry.”
I bite back a smirk.
“I know you are a busy man. We will be in town for several weeks. I hope next time we can meet with a more positive outcome.”
“I hope so too,” I reply, my voice half-conceding and half-warning.
Chapter Forty-Nine Sloane
Tonight is the Red Cross Gala.
It took me two days to agree to go with Magnus. I was too curious about it not to go. Mostly, I didn’t want his aunt to think I was a flake by not showing up. I have no idea what he told her about my attendance, so I figured being there was better than not being there.
The obvious question is, why do I care?
I’m still soured on what happened last weekend at the White Party. Magnus hasn’t even mentioned it during our daily meetings for Holt Cloth & Fabric. In fact, we’ve discussed nothing but business this whole week, which has definitely kept me busy. At least that ass, Jamie will be pleased with my billable hours.
It’s kind of exciting to be the lead on taking a company from purchase all the way through a reconstruction in a way that doesn’t completely screw everyone except the owners.
It’s even more exciting doing it with Magnus. Watching him in a business setting is more thrilling than watching him at play. That man who dived off his personal boat in nothing but a speedo has nothing on the man in his office at work. We battle like two generals coming up with the best plan of action. The undercurrent of sexual energy only makes us that much more passionate.
It makes what I do for a living fun again. Scratch that, it was never fun at Douglas & Foster. Being an associate means getting the grunt work; the paper-pushing, and form creating and memo writing—long hours of boredom.
With Magnus, those long hours fly by in a way that makes you wonder where the day went. The kind that makes me not want to see an end to these forty days.
That first week of nothing but spa treatments and sightseeing almost turned my brain to mush—not that I completely hated it. It’s a good reminder that maybe I should occasionally use my vacation days.
Maybe when I make partner.
For some reason, that thought doesn’t send a triumphant rush of pleasure through me as it usually does when I imagine it finally coming to fruition. I can only attribute it to the reality of something never being as good as the wanting of it.
At any rate, my mind is officially closed for business now that it’s Saturday—a thought that has never once entered my brain. I laugh at the idea that my weekend is mine.
I spent the morning at the spa, despite it being fully booked. Being Magnus Reinhardt’s “personal guest” has its benefits. Now, I’m relaxed, and my nails, skin, and, surprisingly, hair are all on point. I suppose even in one of the top playgrounds of the wealthy, or maybe because it is labeled as such, they have to cater to all types.
After accepting his invite, Magnus had me sent to a boutique to specifically try on several gowns for this event. Based on the selection, I can only imagine it’s right up there with the Oscars as far as a dress code. I surprised myself by settling on the Dior gown of pale gauzy fabric with embroidered flowers across the bodice. It’s so much more delicate and feminine than my usual, far more severe tastes.
It’s been tailored to fit me to perfection, and I stare at myself in the long mirror of my suite admiring it. I feel like a damn princess in this thing. And any moment, Prince Charming will arrive to whisk me away to the ball.
Good grief, look at me!
I laugh at myself. Seriously, I haven’t felt this way since reading fairytales as a little girl. In the Bronx, I had to take my daydreams where I could get them.
And now, it’s a reality.
But Magnus is hardly your typical Prince Charming.
I’ll have to remember that tonight as I’m being swept away once again.
When the knock comes on my door, I literally jump.
Does the man ever operate in any mode other than “shark?”
I steady my nerves and heart, take one last look at myself in the mirror and walk over to open the door.
“Magnus.”
“Sloane.”
The way he looks at me, his eyes wandering across my dress as though drinking me up like a tall glass of iced tea on a hot summer’s day, makes me think perhaps I’m not looking for a Prince Charming after all.
“Are we going or are you going to devour me with your eyes all night?”
He grins and crooks his arm for me like a perfect damn gentleman.
I smile, roll my eyes, and take it.
“So, your aunt, Mona? Are you and she close?” I ask as he walks me toward the elevator.
“She raised my sister and me after our parents were killed. So, yes.”
“So…she’s close with Estelle too?”
I see a tiny smirk curl Magnus’s lips. “Is this your way of prying into how awkward tonight will be?”
“Not prying, I just…I think getting into the middle of family drama twice in a week is a bit much.”
Magnus waits until we’re at the elevator to turn and face me with a bemused look. “I’ve cleared the
