like someone else had taken over my body.
Callie laughed and shook her head. “You’re the most awkward person I know, that’s all.”
“Gee, thanks, Call,” I replied sarcastically.
“It’s just the truth, science geek.”
“He did say something weird, though. He said he wanted to add another condition to our contract next week. I have a meeting with him and his people on Monday. I’m kind of nervous.”
Callie wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe he wants you to be his Anastasia to his Christian Grey.”
“Who?”
She rolled her eyes. “I keep forgetting you’ve been trapped in a science lab the better part of the last five years. It’s from – never mind. Maybe he’s going to make you sign a BDSM contract. You get to be his sex slave in return for his offering you millions.”
I inhaled a cornflake and choked; thankfully the purple from the lack of oxygen hid my blushing.
***
I wore my borrowed suit skirt and silk blouse on Monday morning, eager to see Zane again. I couldn’t help it. All I could think about was him licking that mustard off of my cheek. I felt like a horny teenager again. It was hard for me to think about the details of the official deal we were going to sign in the context of my sexual attraction to him. He hadn’t contacted me all weekend. I’d love to lie and say I hadn’t waited by the phone. But I had.
And I only kind of hated myself for it. I’d also been so bleary-eyed after several restless nights with minimal, sex-dream-filled sleep that I couldn’t manage to put in my contact lenses. I’d dropped my last pair down the drain. It would have to be my horn-rimmed glasses from here on out, at least until I got my first paycheck.
Callie had cleared her schedule to come with me as my legal representation.
“Mr. Reid will be in with the rest of his advisory team in a few minutes,” said the buxom secretary. She eyed me up and down. I’d actually put on makeup today; I was hoping I hadn’t overdone the effect. I wasn’t used to wearing anything aside from lip balm. “You can go inside and sit down.”
The board room smelled like pricy cologne.
I looked over the city below me. This had to be the best view in Chicago. Callie was unimpressed by the view; her firm had one nearly as good. She set her Gucci purse down. I pulled out a seat near the head of the table. There were pens and legal pads waiting at only three of the thirty seats. I found myself worrying absurdly that there was assigned seating and I was going to mess it up. I tapped the pen nervously against the paper pad.
A short, bald man walked in first and nodded at both of us. He reached out his hand. “I’m Bob Sanderson,” he said. “Mr. Reid’s primary attorney.”
“Lovely to meet you,” I said, extending a clammy hand toward him.
“Callie Conrad,” Callie said cordially.
He nodded curtly. “Mr. Reid will be in later. For now, he wanted me to go over the partnership, particularly the five D’s.”
“Five D’s?” I asked, panicking. I was remembering Callie’s sex slave joke from earlier.
“Death, divorce, disagreement, disability, and debt,” he explained.
“It’s detailing what happens to the partnership in the event that either partner ends up in any of those situations,” Callie explained further. She was in her element. “The sixth, of course, would be dissolution. If either one of you decides to end the professional relationship.”
I nodded, listening as intently as I could as both Callie and Mr. Sanderson negotiated. “Mr. Reid is insisting on a two hundred-thousand-dollar annual salary to be paid out biweekly for Ms. Cobb,” Mr. Sanderson said.
I nearly choked. “That’s too much,” I said. “Way too much.”
Mr. Sanderson smiled. “Well, I have to say that’s a first; someone asking for less money. But he insists on it. You can take it up with him. It’s easy enough to change later.”
I was following most of the legal speak until I saw Zane across the