Mo was drooling over the Jimmy Choos when I walked—still in the Louboutins—to the small kitchenette and shoved a K-cup into the Keurig. Coffee. Coffee would help me see clearly. Right now, my mind was a screwed-up mess.

The machine whirred as it squeezed out coffee into my favorite mug. I took a cautious sip, making sure I didn’t burn my tongue. Then I walked the few steps back to where Mo was trying on the Jimmy Choos.

“Too big.” She sighed.

“Bet you never thought you’d wish for bigger feet.” I couldn’t help a chuckle.

“I’m only a size smaller than you are,” she said, “and at the moment, you’re right.”

“You’re a size and a half smaller,” I reminded her.

“I could stuff the toes.”

I laughed. “You would. But no deal. They’re going back.”

She shielded the boxes with her body. “Shh! They’ll hear you!”

I rolled my eyes as I removed the Louboutins. Oddly, I felt a little sad to take them off and see them go. These shoes probably represented three months of my income, and my feet seemed to feel the loss. I placed them back in their bag and nestled them into the box once more. Then I checked the delivery carton. The return address was Golden Personal Shopping.

Of course. Reid Wolfe used a personal shopper. Not that I thought for a minute that he’d gone in search of women’s shoes. Still, though, to see the evidence of a personal shopper bummed me out a bit.

I wasn’t sure why.

“Sorry, Mo.” I handed her the Jimmy Choo box. “Back they go.”

“Goodbye, my pretties.” Mo removed the pumps and placed them back in their box. “You’re a meanie,” she said to me.

“If you want a box of shoes, you can snuggle up to Reid tonight at dinner. I’m sure he’ll be happy to oblige you.”

“Ha! He’s clearly already smitten with you, if this”—she gestured to what she called shoe porn—“is any indication.”

Smitten with me? I held back a slight smile at the thought. He wasn’t smitten. He only wanted something.

Which was why I hated the fact that a small part of me wanted Mo to be right.

10

Reid

A hundred million.

That was what Wolfe Enterprises would have to pay to get this contract back on track.

Some meeting.

I was pissed.

Really pissed.

Rock had already flown back to New York, and though he was the CEO, he had given me authority to do whatever was necessary to get things moving as we were already losing millions per day because of contractor issues.

I could sue.

Indeed, I wanted to sue, because this contractor had screwed up. Why should we pay the price? But as a businessman, I knew a lawsuit would ultimately cost us more money. Some system, huh?