He leaned back in his chair, looked at her for a long moment. “You can cut the bullshit,” he said, breaking the silence. “I’m not buying it. I’ve seen you before.” He tapped his forefinger to his temple. “I’m absolute crap with names, but I never forget a face.”

She leaned forward, pretty little teeth bared, opened her mouth as if about to spit some insult out.

“Yes,” he drawled, hoping he could nudge whatever acidic comment was hovering on the precipice of her lips to tip over into his waiting hands. She was entertaining in a Meyer lemon way. He didn’t want to drink a cup of the juice, but biting into a wedge could be rather refreshing. However, he’d overplayed his hand, because instead of gracing him with some tart rejoinder, she snapped her mouth shut. Closed her eyes briefly. When she reopened them, all irritation had been erased from her face. Her fists had unclenched and were now resting peacefully in her lap. “You were about to say?” he inquired, hoping against hope.

*   *   *

Nice try, buddy boy, Sarah thought, but I’m not going to bite. “Not important.” She smiled blandly at him. “For the record, I’ve never met you.” Actually, never heard of you before this morning. So sorry if that hurts your delicate sensibilities, but there you have it. It pleased her to toss his phrase back at him, even if it was only in her mind. “I’m not an actress or a reporter looking for a scoop,” she continued, as if she possessed a placid, peaceful disposition. “The only thing I want from you is a paycheck. To be fairly compensated for the hours I put in. Now, if you would please tell me what my duties will be, I can get started.”

“As I stated when you arrived on my doorstep, I want a male assistant.”

Well, that’s too damn bad. Welcome to the twenty-first century. “You can’t not hire me on the basis of my sex, at least not in the great state of California,” she informed him sweetly. If he did, that would be classified as sexual discrimination. Which she was sure was a can of worms he’d rather not open. The expression on his face was hilarious. She could see him grinding his teeth. That’s right. Think of the negative publicity. Sarah beamed at him in a helpful sort of manner. “So, I think it’s best if we set gender aside. I am a highly qualified assistant. On a good day, I can type one hundred words per minute. I am well versed in Excel, financial software, bookkeeping, accounts receivable, and—”