But I behaved as best as I could. There was a time when I was close to saying, “You can keep the account. This isn’t worth it.” But I won’t let Miller Archer win. He needs this account.

I’ll take it from him.

Having lunch with him is on the top of my never-to-do list. Yet, here we are, sharing a delicious cabernet from the Gyles Estate and a filet mignon salad the waitress recommended. We haven’t said much since he told me I should be patient.

I stab a piece of meat and some lettuce and say, “So when did you go from Han Solo to Yoda.”

“Huh?” He eyes me, turning his focus away from his phone. “What happened to Emperor Palpatine?”

God, he can be annoying. I finish the bite of food and say, “Just answer, why are you giving me all this patience crap?”

“You’re suspicious of me for telling you to be patient?”

“That’s not you,” I say, almost accusing him of misleading me. “Miller Archer pushes hard, he wants everything fast and to see the results immediately.”

“Life is like sex, my sweet Clarice. Sometimes you have to thrust hard and other times slide in tenderly. Each experience is different and should be handled accordingly. Would you like a refresher?”

I turn red, heat radiates from my body, and of course, his low voice and innuendo gets me wet almost immediately. As if I’m still under his spell and he can command me to do what he wants. “You’re—”

“An excellent teacher?” he finishes.

“Insufferable,” I correct him.

He takes a sip of his wine and tilts his head. “Based on your frustration, a quick fuck would settle down everything that’s swirling inside your head. Slow would only increase the anxiety.”

“We’re not talking about sex.”

“You started it, Princess. I’m just making you aware of what you’re denying yourself.”

“Go to your girlfriend to take the edge away, if that’s what you want.”

He smirks. His eyes roam my face.

Can he read my intentions?

Yes, I want to know more about the bitch he’s dating. Maybe some gorgeous woman like Delaney—his ex-fiancée. Is he serious about her?

Nah, he didn’t want a relationship. He showed me that the night he left me.

“Soon,” he says. “I’ll ask her soon. I’m sure if I’m nice enough, she’ll let me take her against the door of my office, or on top of my desk.”

I glare at him, hating he has someone, that he’s doing to her what we did the last time we were together. If he’s trying to upset me, I won’t give him the satisfaction. I rise from my seat and smile sweetly.

Die, asshole. 

“Have a nice day, Archer,” I say, leaving two twenties on the table.