Page 53 of Imperfect Arrangement

“You…you’re trying to calm me down, but you repeating my words is making me even more jittery!”

He chuckles, low and warm. “Jittery is good. I’d take you jittery over the cardboard cutout you were a few minutes ago. Just channel all that pent-up frustration you have for me.” His hand still holding my wrist presses a little. “I can’t get the board members to wear masks with my face on them, but you can use your imagination, Firefly.”

Firefly.The nickname he tossed out earlier now feels like a lifeline.

I snort—a full-on, unladylike snort—and suddenly, I feel a little less like a mess.

“I’ll keep them out for a bit longer. Give you a minute to breathe.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, meaning it more than he probably realizes.

“It’s the least I can do for my business partner.” His hand slides from my wrist, leaving a warmth that lingers as he turns to leave.

But when I glance down, I notice the smudged concealer on my skin, revealing the tiny broken-heart tattoo I got after Gramps passed. Half of the heart floats in a little black-cloud bubble—one of my favorites, though it’s always hidden under my bangles.

Of all my tattoos, he had to revealthisone, the one that matters most, especially today?

When I look up, Raymond is standing at the door, watching me like he knows this was exactly what I needed. And in that instant, with the way he’s looking at me, like he sees everything, I feel it. This weird twist in my chest.

A slow, quiet realization settles over me. I don’t hate Raymond Teager anymore.

Hell, I might even like him. A bit.

And it’s only been three days.

Crap!

MY MURDEROUS FIANCÉE

RAYMOND

As Willow wraps up her presentation, the room plunges into an eerie silence. My chest feels like it’s caught in a vise, tightening with every second that ticks by. I’m on the verge of losing my cool when Mark starts clapping.

Thank fucking God.

I knew I could count on Mark. He’s part of that rare breed of businessmen who’ve somehow managed to succeed in this field without killing off their emotions.

The applause starts slow but then picks up, spreading throughout the room like wildfire and draining the tension from my shoulders.

Mark leans forward, his eyes twinkling. “Miss Pershing, whatever happened during that coffee break, I’m grateful for it. Otherwise, we’d have missed out on hearing about your connection to the land, the dream you and your grandfather shared. And more importantly, we’d have missed out on a damn good investment.”

Willow’s face lights up with a smile that could power the entire room, and I can’t look away. It’s like watching the sunrise after a long, sleepless night.

Mark raises a brow at me, that knowing grin plastered on his face. “You know why they call Raymond ‘The Shark,’ even though he hates the nickname?” He glances around the room, and I know exactly what’s coming. “It’s because he’s got an eye for finding the best—whether it’s people or projects. And with you, Miss Pershing, he hit the jackpot on both.”

My stomach flips, but this isn’t the usual adrenaline rush I get after a successful meeting. This feels different, too personal.

“I’ve always enjoyed pitches like this,” he continues, his tone thoughtful. “The raw emotion, the passion behind the business—that’s what makes a venture succeed. Heart and drive.”

His gaze shifts between Willow and me, and that grin of his widens, filling me with a new kind of unease. What the hell is he about to say?

“I never thought I’d see the day, Raymond,” he says, almost laughing. “But it looks like you’ve found yourself the perfect business partner. I can see you two being unstoppable.”

And there it is—why this feels different. Because itisdifferent. I’ve partnered with people before, but never have I cared so much about whether they’re seen the way I see them. This isn’t just about the shareholders anymore. This isWillow.

Jack cuts in, slicing through the moment. “Hold on, Mark. Before you start planning their wedding or moving Willow into Raymond’s house?—”

My pulse spikes, but I keep my expression impassive.