Page 13 of So I'll Know
“Look, Marcus. I just want us to be on the same page. This sort of job takes weeks, if not months, of one-on-one collaboration.”
I’m sweating even worse now, the armpits of my shirt sticking to my skin. He gives me a sympathetic smile that I kind of hate, and it dampens my anxiety and raises my hackles.This is ridiculous. I don’t get nervous. I’m Marcus-fucking-Conner.
“Do you really think you can do that after . . . what happened?” he continues.
“What happened, exactly?”
Jeremy purses his lips. “Marcus, I?—”
“Tell. Me. What. Happened.”
His calm air shatters, and he lets out an explosive breath. “I sucked your huge cock, Marcus.” He glares at me. “And you seemed to really like it before you pulled a drip and dip.”
I grit my teeth. “As I recall,nothing happened.” Jeremy’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t speak. “Because I’m straight.” I sound like a homophobic prick, and I hate it.
“Marcus,” he says, with more patience than I expect or deserve, “while I would really like this job for my own selfish reasons, I’ll deal with losing it. No hurt feelings.”
My feelings are already hurt.“Feelings aren’t the issue,” I bark.
Jeremy looks startled. “If you can’t handle working with me?—”
“I can handle you just fine,” I spit out before I realize the implication of my words. A bead of sweat trickles down the side of my face. Jeremy watches it with interest. “Why is it so damn hot in here?”
He leans back and smiles like he just won something. “Okay, big guy. Nothing happened.”
I narrow my eyes. “Really?”
“Look, if I’m being honest, I’m trying to build my portfolio so I can open my own design firm.” He gives me a shrewd look. “I know who you are—who your family is. This would be a high-profile job for me, and I want to get it right.”
I frown. “My name aside, there are a million offices in Seattle, Jeremy. Why don’t you want to design the next Amazon building? Wouldn’t that be bigger clout?”
He waves his hand, his nails catching my eye again. “Been there, done that. Not for Amazon, mind you, but I’ve done enough office and hospital projects to know I’d rather chew razor blades than plan out another boardroom for some rich prick.”
“And my pub is different because. . .”
Jeremy gives me a small smile. “I read about Brothers’ Beer & Bourbon in Vancouver and how you and your brother made it wildly successful with very little start-up cost. It’s impressive.”
“This time is a little different,” I confess. “I have investors.”
He shakes his head dismissively. “How you got here is a story worth telling. You’re not a chain, Marcus. You’re two brothers with a passion, and that’s what I want to highlight.” He leans across my desk, and I can smell the mint on his breath. “This isn’t a corporate office where people lose their will to live. This is where they come to remind themselves that life’s worth living. Drinks with friends. First dates. Anniversaries. This space should be a love letter to you and your brother, and I want your patrons tofeelthat viscerally when they enter.”
I lean back in my chair, impressed and a little emotional by his pitch.
Is he for real?
He’s obviously good at his job, but the honesty in his tone is what’s really disarming. I have no doubt that his design projects are a personal extension of himself, and I won’t say I’m not intrigued by that. Maybe we can find some sort of middle ground between lust and friendship because I’m dying to know therealJeremy. Beyond the ghost I’ve been chasing for years.
I swallow and nod for him to keep going.
“This can benefit both of us,” he continues with a pointed look. “I have a contact atThe Seattle Times; my friend Marionis a reporter there, and she knows the editor of the Home and Decor section. I think I can drum up a lot of hype for this job, which would work in your favor when you open. Restaurants, pubs, and breweries in Seattle are a dime a dozen. I want to make yours stand out.”
He’s speaking to my business sense now, and that makes me feel more grounded and confident. I feel our power shift. Heisn’t the one in control anymore. If I hire him, I could change the whole trajectory of Jeremy’s career. It’s a heady feeling.
Jeremy reaches his hand across the desk, offering it to me. I stare at it like this one decision might change my life, and then, before I can second-guess myself, I press my palm against his. Even though his hand is smaller than mine, his grip is firm and his hand is warm.
I shake it and give him a stiff nod. “Now, maybe you can tell me the difference betweenstormy grayandgray storm.”
CHAPTER FOUR
