Chapter 15: Do We Have A Deal?
Cassandra’s POV
Jordyn’s face darkened. He pressed his lips together.
“You sent your sugar daddy to pick you up?” he asked angrily. “From a party at my family’s estate?”
Wait. What?
My who?
Jordyn reached out and forcefully grabbed my arm.
“That’s in really poor taste, Cassandra, even for you,” he seethed.
But he had it all wrong.
“It’s not my sugar daddy,” I explained. “I’ve already told you. I don’t have a sugar daddy.”
“Then who the fuck is in that limo?” There was danger in his eyes.
“Sir, remove your hands from the lady.” We both looked up to see the limo driver standing by the passenger door. He must have heard Jordyn and saw him aggressively grab my arm. Now he was trying to intervene.
Still worried that Jordyn would find out who I was, the extremely successful co-owner of one of the hottest fashion design firms in the world, I waved off the driver.
“It’s okay,” I reassured the driver. “I won’t be needing your services tonight after all.”
If Jordyn wanted to think that some rich sugar daddy sent me the car, then fine. It was better than the alternative, which was the
truth.
It was my company car.
“Are you sure, Miss Cassandra?” he asked, with skepticism on his face.
“Yes,” I smiled brightly. “Mr. Smith here will be driving me to my office. We have some things to discuss.”
The driver nodded dutifully then got back in the limo and drove away.
Phew. Crisis averted.
“Now will you calm down,” I asked Jordyn.
“You’re going to let me drive you to your office?” He let go of my arm.
“Yes. I want to talk to you about the divorce,” I said. I kept my tone curt and professional. I really wanted him to sign the divorce papers, I was hoping I could persuade him to do so on the way to my office.
Five minutes later and we were weaving down the dark, poorly lit road.
“Ellie is okay, I take it? No broken bones?” I tried to keep the sarcasm from my voice. But I couldn’t.
“She’s fine,” he said bluntly.
“Jordyn, why aren’t you back at the estate looking after Ellie?”
I don’t know why I asked that. I regretted it immediately. What did I care? Clearly, Jordyn and Ellie had some complex emotional
issues to sort through. I wanted no part of it. Thankfully, Jordyn didn’t reply. He just stared at the window, a hard look on his
face.
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“Look,” I said. We were getting close to my office. I wanted to just broach the subject head on and I was running out of time.” Whatever is going on between you and Ellie is none of my business. I just want you to sign the divorce papers. Please. Just sign them so we can both be done with this. I’ll even remove the $10 clause.”
I was as blunt and straightforward as I could possibly be. But again, Jordyn didn’t reply. His silence was unnerving. It wasn’t like himi,
I didn’t press again. I didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. I truly didn’t understand why he was dragging his feet on this, but he was. So there we were,
We just sat in tense silence until we got to the office. I was ready to hop out. But to my surprise, Jordyn parked and turned off the engine.
Finally, he looked at me and broke the silence.
“I’ll sign the divorce papers,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Really?” I asked, surprised. Did I say something that finally got through to him? Why the sudden change of heart? Not that it mattered. He was going to sign the papers. Finally. Relief washed through me.
“On one condition,” he said.
1 narrowed my eyes.
“And what’s that?” I asked, uneasy at this ominous ‘condition’.
“Your company will collaborate with me.”
“What?”
No no no. That couldn’t happen. If it did, then he’d definitely find out who I really was.
“Jordyn,” I said, feigning innocence. “That’s absurd. I’m just an assistant. I have no sway over who the company collaborates with.”
“I think you can,” he said. “All you have to do is arrange a meeting between myself and whoever’s in charge. You know, the ‘ real boss”,”
“I don’t dictate who the boss has meetings with. Honestly, Jordyn, I have no influence over anything. I can’t…”
“Then I won’t sign,” he said.
I was torn between anger, shock, and resentment. What the hell kind of deal was this? There were literally hundreds of fashion design companies. Why mine? Was he just doing this to get under my skin? Or did he actually have a genuine interest in working with Hot House Flower?
Either way, I was pretty ticked off.
“Just get me a meeting. That’s all. If you do it, great. I’ll sign the papers on the spot. But if you fail…well…then the divorce is off.”
What choice did I have? He’d backed me into a corner and he didn’t even know it. (2
From his perspective, it should be easy, right? As far as he knew I was just an assistant. Surely I could arrange for a meeting with the ‘real boss’. What was standing in the way?
Ugh! The fact that I was the real boss, of course.
If I didn’t agree to these terms, he’d think I was hiding something. Or worse. He’d find out who I was BEFORE the divorce.
I couldn’t let that happen.
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I steadied my breathing. I took inventory of the facts.
He was already refusing to sign the papers. So really, what did I have to lose? I was smart. I’d come up with something. Some sort of ruse. I’d get him his damned meeting. And I’d make sure he didn’t find out who I was.
And then…
He’d HAVE to sign the papers. And I’d FINALLY be free.
“Fine,” I sighed.
“Then we have a deal?” He held out his hand. I hesitated for a brief moment. This was a good idea, wasn’t it?
I convinced myself it was. I shook his hand reluctantly. Then I said, with far more confidence than I felt:
“Yes. We have a deal.”
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