LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter 4

      Elle didn’t want to be anywhere near Ahmed Clark. But that didn’t matter since she was stuck with him in the already claustrophobic-feeling general manager’s office.

      “Relax,” Shaye muttered under her breath from her seat next to Elle. “You look like you’d rather be getting a colonoscopy than sitting here with us.”

      “Sounds accurate,” Elle said, shifting to relieve the slight ache in her feet from the lavender stilettos she’d bought weeks before but hadn’t had the chance to wear until now.

      Getting dressed that morning, she’d reached into her closet for anything that could make her feel outstandingly pretty, needing something to build up her armor against the unsettled feelings Ahmed provoked. The vicious-looking high heels and cool white sheath dress did their job. She crossed her hands over the lavender purse in her lap and waited.

      It didn’t take long for Ahmed and his ridiculous bodyguard to walk into the office, filling the small space with their bulk and maleness. Elle and Shaye had come early on purpose.

      “Good afternoon.” Ahmed Clark settled into the leather chair across from the antique-looking wooden desk while his bodyguard took what seemed like his usual place with his back to the wall, his hands loose at his sides.

      Clive walked in just behind the two men, smiling wider than Elle thought was humanly possible. Another man, wearing a three-piece suit and carrying an iPhone, trailed behind him and took a seat near Ahmed.

      “Good, good! Everybody is here.” Clive would’ve probably clapped his hands if not for the massive coffee cup he carried.

      Barely fifteen minutes before, he had welcomed Shaye and Elle into his office, offering them coffee and croissants that Shaye immediately accepted and Elle refused, before doing a disappearing act. Elle was too nervous to eat. Not to mention the last thing she wanted to do was eat in front of Ahmed Clark, get crumbs all over the front of her white dress and give him yet another reason to tease her. Elle straightened her back and showed the men her teeth. Clive sat behind his desk, still grinning.

      “This is one of the station’s lawyers.” He waved at the suited man who only nodded once at the room in acknowledgment. “He’s here to make sure I don’t agree to anything we can get sued for. Now—” he set the coffee mug onto the desk with a solid thump “—I’m glad we could come to an agreement on this.” Then he clapped his hands in a show of barely restrained excitement. “This is going to be a big win for everybody!”

      Elle was sure the actual opposite was true. This was going to be a disaster. Already, the trepidation hummed in her belly, twisting it into something like nausea. Shaye, on the other hand, looked almost as excited as Clive, her eager gaze flicking between Elle and Ahmed, dollar signs practically lighting up in her eyes.

      “So, tell me, Clive.” Elle deliberately used his first name like he’d insisted on during that last phone call. “What do you have in mind?”

      “Well, Elle, I’m glad you asked,” Clive said.

      He flicked his gaze around the room, perhaps to make sure everybody was paying attention, then he jumped in, outlining a plan that included Ahmed and Elle, a night of romance...and cameras.

      Absolutely not. Elle opened her mouth to disagree.

      “No, no cameras, Clive.” Ahmed’s deep voice rumbled with finality.

      He sat with his thighs sprawled in the leather chair, his pose one of careless comfort, but his eyes were sharp on Clive with a serious look that made Elle think of a high-school principal or a daddy with a belt. Although she wasn’t intimidated by Ahmed, she’d never want that particular expression turned on her.

      But Clive didn’t seem to get it. “But how is the audience gonna know you actually went on the date?” He sounded like a kid being denied his favorite toy.

      “They can trust us.” Ahmed’s voice was firm. “Your guys can take some pictures of us before the date, and Elle can take a couple of selfies during, if she feels like it, but no one is going to follow us around like we’re on a damn reality show.”

      “Well.” The lawyer spoke up for the first time. “If you insist on some media documentation, you can have a mini press conference at the beginning of the evening and tell the audience on camera what the plans are for the date. Then you can take a few photos throughout the night, as Mr. Clark recommended.”

      “Oh, like prom!” Shaye chimed in. Elle almost kicked her.

      “Exactly.” Clive flashed even more teeth.

      The lawyer looked pained.

      When he didn’t say anything else, Clive went on. “After the date, you come back to the station for a follow-up on-air appearance to talk about the date, how the service went—the goal for this, after all, is to advertise your business, Elle—and how you would change or tailor it to other clients.” Clive paused. “A potential AhmElle relationship attached to your business and this station would bring us all to the winner’s circle.”

      “AhmElle?” Elle frowned at Clive.

      “You know, like Brangelina or TomKat,” he said with another flash of teeth. “A lot of celebrity couples have names like that.”

      Jesus...

      “That’s a great idea,” Shaye said, her eagerness on full display. She practically wiggled in her chair, attracting the now wide-eyed attention of the lawyer.

      Elle’s hand twitched with the urge to throw her purse at her best friend, to hell with the delicate lavender leather of the bag. This could all go wrong so easily. For some reason, Ahmed got off on tormenting her, and while she was never one to take any kind of abuse lying down, even when she’d been an orphan growing up in the system, she hated that she had to constantly be on her guard against him. Her skin prickled with uncomfortable heat, and her teeth were on their way to being ground down to a fine powder. He just set her completely on edge.

      Damn Shaye for asking her to do this.

      Elle tightened her hands on top of her bag. “How long is this farce of a date supposed to last?”

      “As long as you two can stand each other, is my recommendation,” the lawyer said the same time as Clive offered his own. “We don’t have to go as far as filming your walk of shame the next morning.” He flashed a smile as he spoke, but Elle didn’t get the impression he was joking.

      “I told you we don’t want anything filmed,” she said and thought she caught a look of surprise on Ahmed’s face. “Let’s just do the bare minimum of what you need to get this thing off the ground.”

      She prompted Shaye with a look, and her friend jumped in with her part of the plan, whipping out her iPhone and opening the app with one of her endless lists with the brisk tap of a finger.

      “I’ll put together one of our best packages for you both—I won’t tell you what it is and spoil the surprise, Elle, and that way you can really talk about it on the radio from the perspective of someone being wined and dined and whisked away on a special romantic night.”

      Across the room, Ahmed shifted his

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