The Personal Touch. Lori Borrill
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to be there—five times what you usually charge.”
“You have no idea how much that is.”
He resorted back to the winning smile. “I have a feeling you’re worth every penny.”
Her eyes fluttered again and he knew he was on the brink of getting his way.
“My standard contract would have to be altered. This is rather unusual—”
“Write it up as you see fit and send it over to my office.”
She bit her lip and studied the brochure between them. He knew he nearly had her, and the fact that she was asking questions was good.
“I don’t know what guarantee I can offer, with my hands tied, I’m not sure—”
“Guarantee that you’ll have dinner with me and my mother for any set number of times you feel is necessary to offer a consultation.” Then he met those big brown eyes with his most serious and assuring expression. “That’s all I’m asking.”
She stared at him for a long time. Long enough for his conscience to question if he truly wanted this for his mother or if there was a teeny little side of him that wanted a date for himself. Not that he’d ever had to pay a woman to date him. But the sentiment remained. This discussion had left him both intrigued by Margot Roth and nearly certain there was something brewing between them. It was the subtle spark of chemistry he’d felt the second he’d stepped into her office. And through this conversation, that spark wouldn’t die.
If Margot needed to get to know his mother, Clint suspected half the fun could be getting to know Margot in return. A win-win, so to speak. The virtual golden egg when it came to business dealings. Or business dealings that turned to pleasure.
“I’ll do it,” she finally said.
Clint smiled and pulled a business card from his wallet. “I think we’ll make a good team.”
“Maybe I can feel her out. The best solution would be to ultimately warm her up to the idea of using my services. That way, I could offer a standard contract with the standard guarantees. At this point, all I can—”
He rose. “Stop worrying. If I wasn’t sure I’d get my money’s worth, I wouldn’t have made the offer.”
Her smile was laced with trepidation, but he had a sense that the next time he saw her—after she’d had a chance to think this through and come up with an action plan—the sharp and confident Margot Roth would make a grand return. In fact, he’d almost bet on it.
When she pushed from her chair, he offered his hand. “Call me when you’ve got a contract and we can discuss next steps.”
MARGOT TOOK THE HAND of the tall, sexy man who had waltzed into her office and turned her afternoon on end. She could tell by his casual ease that this meeting was simply another stop in an average day for Clint Hilton. Rarely did he walk away without closing a deal, she presumed, and she had to admit, he was good. He’d pushed all the right buttons to have her lapping out of his hands. And as he said his goodbyes and made his way out of her office, she felt she’d just witnessed a master at work.
What had she done? For a woman who worked off strict principles, who believed in demonstrating the same ethics she expected of her clients, she’d somehow managed to throw it all out the window by something as basic as money and charm.
But oh, did Clint Hilton have charm. That sexy look alone nearly had her going along before he’d sunk the eight ball by quintupling her salary. She’d practically felt his fingers running all over her as he’d demonstrated “the vibe.” Heck, she might have offered her services at half price if he’d done it again, and it amazed her that something so primal could hold so much power.
For someone who thought she knew everything about dating, that look was one for the record books. She lowered back to her chair and reached for her water, wishing it was something stronger.
“And what did tall, rich and handsome want from you?”
Margot looked up to see Alan standing in her doorway. He was a tall, tanned man with a voice smooth as syrup and a calming manner that always put her at ease. Except today, it would take more than her business partner to shake the effects of Clint Hilton from her nerves. And only when she spoke and heard the trembling in her own voice did she realize the ramifications of what she’d done.
“I think I just agreed to be his girlfriend.”
4
MARGOT SPENT the bulk of her afternoon drawing up a contract for Clint after consulting with Alan and running the details by her lawyer. Though she could have e-mailed the final document to Clint’s office before leaving for the day, she decided to sleep on it instead. Not only did she want to give the ad hoc contract a fresh read-through in the morning, she also didn’t want to look too eager in Clint’s eyes.
That had been Alan’s suggestion, and one of the first things he’d schooled her on when they’d gone into business together five years ago. When it came to people with money, never look like you need their business.
As a military brat who’d grown up entirely middle-class, Margot never once scoffed at Alan’s advice on L.A.’s upper crust. And she’d done well for it. She wasn’t going to start ignoring him now.
“Well, I’m off to spend a quiet evening with the girls,” Alan announced from her doorway. The “girls” were the twin beagles, Lucy and Ethel, that Alan shared with his life partner, Gene.
“Gene’s not back from his conference?” she asked.
“No, and it’s still raining in Boston. He called this morning to say he was freezing his ass off.”
“You didn’t tell him about our heat wave, did you?”
Alan chuckled. “He’d already heard. Anyway, I’m off. You’ll lock up?”
“Yes, and thanks again for your advice today. It really helped having someone else to brainstorm this contract with.”
“I don’t suppose it’s every day you’re contracting yourself out as a fake girlfriend.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “For five times my regular fee.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t repeat that in too many circles,” Alan replied, chuckling. “People will get the wrong impression about what we’re selling here at Intimates.”
Margot snorted. “I don’t think anyone would mistake me for a high-priced hooker. I don’t have the legs for it.” Then she looked down her chest. “Or the rack.”
“I’m sure Rob would disagree.”
The mention of her boyfriend doused the smile on her face. “Gosh, Rob, I forgot all about him. I really should call and make sure he doesn’t have a problem with this.”
“Why would he?”
Margot couldn’t think of a reason. She was certain he’d be fine with what, for all intents and purposes, was a few casual business dinners. But she and Rob had barely been dating a month, and with her feelings for him growing stronger by the minute, she didn’t want any misunderstandings interfering with their budding relationship.
“I’m sure he won’t,” she agreed. “But I’ll call just the same.”
When Alan said his goodbyes and left, she locked the door behind him and made the call.
“Sloan Enterprises,” she heard Rob say.
She put on her lowest and most breathy voice. “Hey, sexy.”
The line fell silent for an instant before he finally replied, “Margot?”
“Yes, silly. Who else would it be?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell me your mother