"Mr. Fox." I looked him dead in the eye. "I'm here for the money. Not for you."
And for one other person.
Benedict paused when he heard my pitch, caught off guard for a moment. Then he laughed.
"Interesting."
I pressed the advantage. "Mr. Fox, what you're after is the money. So can we be results-oriented here and let me give it a shot?"
He tilted his head, studying me with a mix of curiosity and appraisal.
A few seconds passed. Then he looked away, cleared his throat.
"Let's discuss the penalty clauses."
"I accept."
I answered before he'd even finished, clean and decisive.
He looked slightly surprised but continued anyway.
"If either party develops feelings, the contract terminates immediately. The penalty for that is also ten million."
I nearly laughed out loud.
Catching feelings? With me, a freshly divorced woman? Mr. Fox was overthinking this.
I agreed without a word and extended my hand.
The wounds from last night were still on it.
He took my hand.
Maybe I imagined it, but his thumb pressed gently against the back of my hand, right where the deepest cut was.
The moment I stepped out of the office, I gripped the contract tight. Ten million dollars. Three months. Worth it.