Best Laid Plans Read Online Free PDF Page B

since last night, I’ve been imagining several events where I
could use someone with your particular skill set. Can you work late nights?”
    He’s trying to make me blush
again, and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. Let’s see how he likes
his own medicine. I’ll get him all hot and bothered and then turn down his
rinky-dink party. I lean forward and put my elbows on the table. “I’m very
flexible.”
    He smiles and the dimples in
his cheeks deepen. “Hmmm. I like a flexible woman.”
    I smile right back at him. “I’ve
yet to meet a man who didn’t.”
    His smile disappears and I
take some satisfaction in that. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms
over his chest. “Have you met a lot of men?”
    No, but he doesn’t need to
know that. “I have a strict policy of client confidentiality—so I can’t answer
that question. I’m sure you understand, considering how demanding you
can be about your privacy.”
    He doesn’t even have the
courtesy to look contrite, let alone apologize for the way he treated me last
night. In fact, he looks bored.
    “I insist on discretion.” He
leans in, and I feel the urge to retreat. “I also insist on being your only client while we’re working together.”
    My fight-or-flight instinct
kicks in, and I don’t choose the flight option. “You can have a whole team of
planners working for you but I can’t even have one other client? Seems like
a double standard.”
    “The other planners are for
my business. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”
    “What you fail to realize is
that your pleasure is my business.” Oh, that didn’t come out the way I wanted.
There’s no turning back now. “That’s why I have to be very selective about the
clients I choose.” I close my notebook, signaling he’s not one of the chosen.
    His lips flatten as he opens the
checkbook. “I understand your exclusive services come at a premium. I’m
prepared to write you a deposit right now. Will a hundred do?”
    I laugh. “A hundred dollars?”
    “No. Thousand. One hundred
thousand.”
    When he said everything’s for
sale, I didn’t realize we were talking six figures. I could keep Robert on as
an employee, pay off both of my credit cards, and put some money back into
savings.
    “Ms. Whitkins? Is one
hundred sufficient?”
    I recover quickly. “I don’t
know. You haven’t told me anything about this party. How many people are you
expecting? Is it a sit-down dinner or buffet? Is there dancing? Did you want a
band?” My mind starts spinning on all the things that need to get done in one
week.
    “What I want is to give my
brother a birthday party that requires as little of my involvement as possible.
I also want you and I’m willing to pay for both. Shall we say $150,000?”
    Damn him, it’s too good an
offer to pass up and he knows it. He’s wrapped it all up in sexual innuendo so
it would be doubly embarrassing for me to accept. One look at Pippa will tell
you I am nothing like his type. I’m not petite, I’m not twenty-something, and I
don’t have long, straight hair. If I take this job, he’ll probably make it a
living hell for me. Suddenly the fact that it’s only a week away makes it more
appealing. He clicks his pen rapidly, signaling his impatience, and I cave.
    “That should be a sufficient
deposit. I’ll send you my W-9 for tax purposes.”
    He flashes a victory smile, rips
a check out, and passes it to me as he picks up the conference room phone. “Shirley,
I need the event file for Ms. Whitkins waiting for her at the front desk.”
    The check is made out to JW
Events, even though I haven’t given him my company name. I remember he told the
little tyke he wanted everything he could get on me. I can see the dossier now.
Jillian Whitkins, thirty-one, widowed, owner of JW Events. Last known date with
a man: no record found. Then there would be lots of pictures of my parties. I
should warn him not to believe everything he sees on the