The Negotiator (Harbor City 1)

He stepped back a few paces and busied himself with re-buttoning his shirt. “And here I thought you were the one always up for an adventure.”

Which is just what this had been for him—a walk on the wild side for Mr. Upper Crust. The realization would have pissed her off if it hadn’t been for the heat still smoldering in his eyes. She was young, free, and having a Cinderella-at-the-ball kind of night—in a twisted sort of way, of course. It’s not like any of that makeout meant anything. It was just part of the too-hot-for-a-cartoon-movie fantasy and now it was time to go home before her not-glass slippers resulted in the loss of her toes.

“So are we in agreement?” Sawyer asked as he adjusted his cuffs.

Of course, it was back to business for him. Well, two could play at that game. His negotiation tactics might be unusual—she’d never dry humped anyone at the Turkish bazaar—but she couldn’t deny they worked because she was about to say yes.

She was going to agree to be a temporary fiancée to a man she’d just met—or translated to Clover terms, just another job to list on her whack-a-do resume. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have to make some adjustments to their agreement. If she was in, she was going all in and so was he.

“Agreement?” Clover smoothed back a few stray hairs and tried to get her heart rate back down to not-running-a-marathon levels. “About the fake engagement?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll need to work out the details.” There. That sounded all tough and corporate.

He straightened his glasses that she must have sent askew during the kiss. “I usually leave those to other people.”

Nice try. “Not this time.”

He shrugged those mouthwateringly broad shoulders. “Have it your way.”

“Always.” Okay, not really, but it made her sound all badass and she had a feeling she was going to need that bit of bravado to keep her head on straight for the next few weeks. She was going to need that edge because Sawyer was about to learn the art of negotiation from a real master. She couldn’t wait to see how he’d take it. Now this was gonna be fun.

Chapter Six

Vito’s Diner sat on the corner of Hammish and Fifth. The burgers were thick and charbroiled. The shakes were made with full-fat milk and ice-cream. The breakfast was served twenty-four hours a day. Best of all? There wasn’t a socialite in sight. It was the only place Sawyer Carlyle wanted to be after they’d run the gauntlet trying to make a quiet exit out of the gala and the last place Clover probably imagined he’d ever go.

She sat across from him in the booth—he’d taken the side with the tear in the blue vinyl seat—and studied the six-page menu that covered everything from colossal pancakes to cheddar melts to mom’s chocolate chip cookies. They’d spent the ride over on opposite ends of the Town Car’s backseat.

The kiss in the supply closet had been the kind his cock wasn’t going to forget anytime soon, but he couldn’t let it happen again. One, she may not be his employee but he was still signing her checks. That employer/employee line was there for a reason. Two, he wasn’t fooling himself. They were still in the middle of a negotiation. He’d been in the game too long to lose an advantage because his dick had started doing the thinking for both heads.

The waitress stopped at their table, pad and pencil at the ready. “Hey Sawyer, you feeling the burger or the tuna melt tonight?”

Easiest decision of the night. “Cheeseburger, please, Donna.”

“Excellent.” She nodded, her French fry earrings bobbing. “Everything on it?”

“You bet, and extra bacon.”

“Got it. Chocolate shake?”

Just the mental image of the shake loosened some of the tension pinching his shoulders tight. “The biggest you’ve got.”

“That kinda night, huh? I’ll add some extra cherries for you.” Donna chuckled and gave him a wink before turning to Clover. “How about you, hun?”

“Can I get the same kind of cheeseburger he’s having but with jalapeños instead of the extra bacon?”

“You got it,” Donna said. “Anything else?”

Clover’s gaze traveled down the full menu page devoted to shakes and malts as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ll take the pineapple shake but a small, please.”

A small? That was a sacrilege at Vito’s—sort of like turning down a cheesesteak in Philadelphia or a real deep dish pizza in Chicago.

“They’re really good,” he said. “You’re gonna regret that size.”

“He’s right, hun,” Donna said, backing him up.

Clover gnawed on her lip for another three seconds before nodding her head. Decision made. “Okay, I’ll give you that win. As big as they come, extra cherries.”