Page 193 of Savage Suit

“Do you hear yourself?” she cried. “You’re insane. As badly as you want the Amage account, why would you hire me if you believed I had to open my legs to them to win it?”

“Fuck, I wasn’t thinking.” That hadn’t been a motive in the beginning. I’d given Channing the fucking ammunition the night of the gala. My possessiveness toward Ryan made her their target.

“Do you know the money you’ll lose if you withdraw our bid for the contract? Not only the value of that contract,” she continued, undeterred by my silence, “but the money you’ve put into it to win it.”

What could I fucking say?

Ryan cocked her head to the side. “What aboutLa Nostalgie?”

I closed my eyes, not wanting to cancel production. Honoring my mother’s memory meant as much as creating a happier memory for that dark day. But she was dead. I’d miss her for the rest of my life and protect her legacy. Ryan, very much alive, needed my protection too. If it meant forever squashing the perfume’s release, that was fine. Beating Sauncier no longer mattered. Only she did. I hadn’t tied the money I intended to give her into perfume sales, offering a greater chance she’d accept the bonus without arguing.

I looked at her again. Her gray eyes were grave, searching. “Cancel production.”

She limped to the closest chair and sat. She glanced at Rosa, then Reid, then me. “Before you do that, could you appeal to Mr. Andrews?”

“You’re still the account manager, Ryan. There’s no guarantee you wouldn’t have to meet with Channing or Claude.”

“It’s your mother’s perfume. I’d refuse to go without you.” Sadness fell over her again and she pursed her lips. “What about Kee-Tel?”

Nicholas’ threats. He wouldn't agree to the deal if Ryan didn’t go to Paris. “It will get done. I will sleep in my office for the next week to work on pushing the deal through.”

“You slept in your office?”

I nodded. “Last night. And only have had a couple hours of sleep.”

She sniffed. “No wonder you’re so grouchy.” She glanced between Reid and me. “Are you sure their motives are prurient?”

“Positive,” I responded.

Absently, she massaged her knee. “Maybe the Sauncier personisgoing.” She gave me a hopeful look. “I could dine with them. They might not give me pointers, but I could listen.”

I gave her a thoughtful look. “Reid, find out when Dorset is arriving in Paris.”

He nodded.

“Who’s Dorset?” Ryan asked.

“Sauncier’s man. A former department head at KMG and the account manager for Amage.”

“Ohhhh,” she said, her eyes widening. “If he’s arriving when Channing claimed, will it ease your worries enough so I can—”

“No,” I growled. “There’s no reason for you to travel.”

“Didn’tyoujust go on a business trip?” she demanded.

“That’s different.”

“No, jackass, it isn’t. Unless you possess magical powers to keep your plane safe while you’re onboard, you’re as much at risk as me.”

“It is different,” I said flatly, glaring at Reid. He looked so amused.

“How?”

“It just is, Ryan.”

“Hmmmm. My life is more valuable than yours.”

“Can we not get into a philosophical debate?”