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he?” Denise asked.

      “Yes. He made good on his promise and they have a cook who prepares their meals, so the only thing Mom has to do is heat them up in the oven or the microwave.”

      Denise wanted to tell Rhett his mother didn’t have to learn to cook because she’d worked at a restaurant and brought food home. She also didn’t tell him that six months ago she’d gone to see Geraldine Fennell, but neighbors told her Gerri had moved and hadn’t left a forwarding address.

      “I hope she’s happy.”

      “She is,” Rhett confirmed. “Once I convinced her to give up one of her jobs, she got her GED and eventually went online to get a liberal arts degree. She says she doesn’t know what she’s going to do with it, but earning a college degree is something she’d always wanted.”

      The sommelier approached the table with two flutes and a bottle of champagne in a crystal ice bucket. He poured a small amount into one flute, handed it to Rhett, and then filled both when he nodded his approval.

      Rhett offered Denise the wineglass, their fingers touching. Holding his flute aloft, he gave her a long, penetrating look. “Here’s to a successful business arrangement.”

      With wide eyes, Denise stared at him over the rim. “What business arrangement?” The query was barely a whisper.

      He took a sip of the sparkling wine. “Drink up, Denise.”

      Her fingers tightened on the stem of the glass. “No. I’m not going to toast or drink to something I know nothing about.”

      Rhett set his glass down. He knew his dining partner well enough to know she wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do. “I want you to stand in as my hostess for the summer.”

      A soft gasp escaped Denise when she replayed Rhett’s business proposal in her head. “You need a girlfriend?” There was a thread of incredulity in the question.

      “No, Denise, I don’t need a girlfriend. I broke up with my girlfriend a couple of months ago, and I’m not looking for another one. Unfortunately I’ve committed to quite a few social engagements this summer, and I need someone who will stand in as my date and hostess, providing your boyfriend doesn’t object.”

      Clasping her hands together, she concealed their trembling under the table. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

      “That alleviates one obstacle.”

      She rolled her eyes at him. “Why don’t you contact a dating service, Rhett? I’m certain they can find someone to your liking.”

      Leaning forward, Rhett’s face suddenly went grim. “I don’t do dating services.”

      Denise refused to relent. “Have you been in a monastery since we broke up?”

      “Who I’ve slept with is none of your business,” he retorted.

      “I didn’t ask who you were sleeping with, Garrett Mason Fennell. I said—”

      “I know what you said. You have a choice, Miss Eaton. Either it’s yes or no.” He knew she was upset because she’d called him by his full name.

      “What are my options?”

      “If you say no, then you’ll receive a lease renewal agreement doubling your current monthly rent.”

      Denise blinked, unable to believe what she’d heard. “That’s blackmail!”

      “I call it negotiating, Denise. You want something from me, and I’m offering you a way out of your dilemma. I could’ve said I wanted you to sleep with me.”

      “That’s sexual harassment.”

      “Call it whatever you want,” Rhett said quietly. “You have exactly one minute to give me an answer, or the deal is off the table.”

      “And if I say yes?” Denise felt as if someone had put their fingers around her throat, slowly squeezing the life out of her.

      Rhett knew he had Denise on the ropes when he saw her shoulders slump. And, like a shark drawn to the smell of blood, he went in for the kill.

      “You give me the next three and a half months of your life and I’ll offer you a two-year lease with a ten percent increase.”

      “Make it three years and six percent,” she countered.

      “Three years, eight percent, and that’s my final offer.”

      Denise felt as if she’d won a small victory. Picking up her flute, she extended it. “Deal,” she crooned, touching glasses. She took a sip of champagne. “Why me, and not some other woman?” she asked, seeing his smug expression.

      Rhett lowered his gaze, staring at the back of his left hand. “I don’t have time to tutor someone about social etiquette and protocol.”

      “How often will I have to stand in as your hostess?”

      “Every weekend.”

      “Every weekend?” she repeated. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”

      “No, I’m not kidding you, Denise. We’ll either entertain here in D.C., or on Cape St. Claire.”

      The waiter’s sudden appearance to take their order was the only thing that stopped Denise from spewing the acid-laced response poised on the tip of her tongue. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at Rhett when she wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. Crossing her arms over her chest, she counted slowly in an attempt to control her temper.

      “It can’t be every weekend,” she said when they were alone again.

      Rhett angled his head. “Is your business open on the weekend?”

      She rolled her eyes at him. “No.”

      “It can’t be because of a man, because you said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

      “Boyfriend or not, I still have other obligations.”

      Rhett glanced up, annoyance and frustration welling up within him. If he wasn’t careful, his plan would backfire and that was something he wanted to avoid, given the risks he’d taken to exact revenge from Denise Eaton for turning his world upside down. His most ruthless business foes hadn’t been able to affect him the way she had.

      He’d designed his retribution as carefully as he studied a company on the brink of bankruptcy before he stepped in to take it over. Rhett had been hard-pressed not to shout at the top of his lungs when his investigator uncovered that Denise had opened a child care center in D.C., and on property his company had recently purchased from a developer who’d been forced to abandon his plan to revitalize four square blocks of commercial real estate after the housing market bottomed out. He’d paid the developer a little more than half the fair market value for the property, and the developer took the check and thanked him profusely.

      His game plan included seducing Denise back into his bed, then walking out on her as she had walked out on him. The only difference was there wouldn’t be a woman waiting for him as there had been for her years ago.

      “What type of other social obligations?”

      “I have two fundraisers—one in June and the other in August. I’m also involved in planning my cousin Belinda’s baby shower.”

      Belinda Eaton-Rice was due at the end of the month and the family had decided that a get-together over the three-day weekend would provide an opportune setting for a baby shower.

      “Does she know about the shower?”

      Denise smiled for the first time since she’d agreed to go along with Rhett’s unorthodox proposal. “No. My parents are supposedly hosting the get-together, and that will give Griffin time to drive Belinda to Philly while the rest of us decorate their house in Paoli. Once they arrive, Griffin will have to come up with an excuse why they have to return to Paoli.”

      Rhett

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