Last Kiss Goodbye. Rita Herron

wishing her heart would return to its normal pace. “Fine.”

      “I’d like to practice the handshake again.” He moved in closer to her.

      “You don’t need to. I told you, you were perfect.”

      Jason flashed a wolfish grin. “I’m far from that.” He held out his hand.

      “Okay, one last time. This time you do the introductions.”

      He extended his hand. She took it.

      “Hello, Ms. Baylor, I’m Jason Ward, and I look forward to working with you over the next several weeks.”

      She knew the words to say, but they wouldn’t escape her mouth. Her throat felt dry; her face felt warm. She was in trouble. He was not only both terrifying and magnificent, he was sexy as hell. He softened his grip, making it restraining but also tender—staying on the side of decency, so she couldn’t scold him, but eliciting very indecent thoughts in her mind. Unsettling her. He made her realize how large his hand was, how hot his palm felt against hers. Abby pulled her hand away and folded her arms. He was more devious than she thought. Maybe he was getting her back for her cold greeting—whatever the reason, she couldn’t fight him on equal terms. He clearly had the advantage. But she couldn’t let him have an emotional advantage; she had to stay distant and professional.

      “That was perfect,” she said in a bright voice, hoping he couldn’t see his effect on her. “You really are a fast learner.” She had learned that stroking a man’s ego always worked in her favor. She just needed him as a client, nothing else. She took a step backward.

      “I am a fast learner, but you’re also a good teacher.”

      “Yes, and I also know when I’m being tested. That bone-crushing handshake before was a test, wasn’t it? What were you trying to find out? Whether I’d run away or not? Whether you could frighten me? Did I pass?”

      He folded his arms, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Yes.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see how desperate you were.”

      “I’m not desperate.” She moved to go behind her desk, but he blocked her path.

      “Eager, then,” he smoothly corrected.

      “What do you mean by eager?”

      He took out his cell phone and typed in a few things, then held the screen out to her. “Finishing Touches isn’t doing as well as it used to. You were right. I am meticulous and did my homework. I know a lot about you, Ms. Baylor.”

      “And I obviously don’t know enough about you. I knew you were a jerk, I just didn’t realize how big.” Abby stared at the screen in humiliation, feeling exposed and ashamed. She didn’t care if he did or didn’t want to be there, but she’d at least thought he respected her. “I see,” she said coldly. She pushed past him and walked to the door.

      “Where are you going?”

      As far away from you as I can get. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re the one who’s leaving,” she said, although she hated the thought of failing before she’d even begun. She’d been so hopeful about this meeting. She’d imagined succeeding with him and seeing her business soar—instead he’d shown her how close to the brink she was. “You’ve made it very clear that this won’t work, and I agree with you,” she said, opening the door wider, a signal for him to leave.

      “I had to do it,” Jason said in a flat, grim tone, walking toward her.

      Abby stepped backward but found herself with nowhere to go and her back against the door.

      Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. “I hate needing anyone. Especially for something like learning how to ‘work with people.’ I don’t see why I should have to use someone like you. I’m good at what I do. I like my life, but for some reason people seem to have a problem with the way I do things. I don’t like to depend on anyone. Finding your weak spot makes me feel fine about you knowing mine. You need me as much as I need you.”

      She didn’t want it to be true, but he was right. “I demand respect,” she said. “No more tests.”

      He held up his hand as though stating an oath. “Agreed.”

      “I can help you learn business etiquette.” When he didn’t look convinced, she continued. “I know it may sound strange, but in the corporate world, knowing the rules is what really counts, not just making money. You need to change your business approach, because you are your business. I’m going to show you how to be strong but not rude, kind but not weak and bold but not a bully.”

      “How?”

      “You’ll see.” She sniffed the air. “My goodness, do you always smell this good?”

      He blinked. “What?”

      She leaned in closer and sniffed again. “Hmm.” She leaned back and nodded. “I can already tell right away what some of your problems are. First of all, you smell amazing, but a little too much so—it’s distracting. Is it cologne or aftershave? We may have to change it. Also, I know that you don’t like wearing suits, but this present look—” she studied his khakis and the sweater he was wearing “—may be too casual for you. You’re sexy, but your clothes work against you because you’re projecting an aggressive sexiness that both attracts and repels at the same time. You have a very intimidating build and you’re very smart, brilliant in fact, but you don’t look it.”

      She held up her hand. “I’m not saying you look stupid, it’s just that your mind isn’t the first thing people think about when they look at you.” It certainly wasn’t for me. “Your build and your face work against you in the business environment where they no doubt worked for you on the streets. You’ll need the right armor. You don’t hide your feelings well either. Right now I know I said something that’s made you angry. I’ll find out what later, but I shouldn’t know that. I’ll teach you how to guard your feelings.” She shoved his shoulder backward. “I’m going to remove this big chip from your shoulder and help you get the respect you want. I can see that’s what you’re hungry for. You want to prove yourself. That’s a bad thing.”

      Jason lifted a brow in a silent question.

      “When you want to prove something to someone else, you make that person important. By making them important, you make them matter. And if you make them matter, they own you.” She walked back to her desk and sat. “We’ll have three rules. One, you will learn to look away. It will be brief, but necessary. Two, you’ll alter your appearance, not radically but enough, and three, you will not swear. Every time you swear, you’ll give me one hundred dollars.”

      He swore. “A hundred?”

      She held out her hand. “You can afford it.”

      He bit his lip, reached into his pocket and handed her a hundred dollar bill.

      Abby carefully folded the bill and put it away. “Now, humility—”

      “Is a trait I prefer not to fake.”

      “Do you really want my help?”

      “No, I already told you that. I really don’t want to be here. Take dogs and cats, for example. I have no problem with them. During high school I volunteered at a local veterinary clinic. I loved it. I never had to worry about hurting their feelings.”

      “We’re not talking about cats and dogs. We’re talking about you being able to interact well with human beings so that you make the kind of connections you need to have a successful business.

      “You mean, learn how to engage in small talk and suck up to people to get what you want and—”

      “What have you heard?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “You’re talking in vague statements—‘sucking up to people’ and ‘hurting people’s feelings.’ You don’t strike me as the kind