“A contract?” Before she could ask specifics, the food arrived.
Shiori immediately dug in and left the conversation hanging.
Amery was too keyed up to politely nibble on a sandwich and a plate of fruit. Ideas spun around in her head. So did fear.
“Amery,” Shiori said sharply. “I can hear your stomach growling. Eat.”
“You sound like your brother.” But she ate all of it. She even asked Gigi to bring her a slice of chocolate-chip cheesecake.
When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she blurted, “So you mentioned a contract?”
“We’ve come up with a couple of contract options because Okada definitely wants your designs. We pay very well. Yet, if you feel you’ve been overpaid because of your relationship with an Okada heir, I can let you see other, similar contracts.”
“I’d appreciate that. And forgive me if I’m acting spacey, but this is a huge shock. After everything that happened, I literally put the work I’d done on the project out of my mind and focused on my existing clients. I never imagined that you’d do anything with my proposal besides toss it in the trash. Not that I didn’t think it was good. I just believed the whole thing had been a setup from the start and I’d never really had a chance.”
“Understandable.”
“What are my options?”
“A one-time lump sum. You turn over ownership of all the existing designs to us.”
“Okay. What else?”
“Okada puts you under contract. Lump sum for the finished designs and you work on other concepts for the company—not limited to this new product line. While you’d have guaranteed income during that time, usually two years, whatever you design in that time we’d own.”
“No more lump sum payments with that option.”
“Correct.”
“More than likely, I’d have to give up my existing clients due to time constraints.” And limited manpower. But with a new income stream, she could hire more employees to pick up the slack.
“Yes. I should also warn you that if you’re under contract, you’ll have to give up all other clients with food-based businesses. Okada won’t chance our brand being recognized on another competing company’s products.”
“That makes sense. But some of my clients have stuck with me when they could’ve jumped ship.”
“Which is why you need to think this through. It is a great opportunity, and the exposure will change the future of your business. Other competing Asian food companies will mimic your designs and try to hire you away. That’s part of the game. I trust that you’ll handle that part just fine.”
“But the other parts?”
“Working for Okada means you’ll be tied to Ronin even if things don’t work out between you two. I don’t want resentment from you in case things go south. I don’t want resentment from Ronin because you’re involved in the company. I’m asking you to take a couple of days or even a week to weigh the pros and cons.”
“Can I talk to Ronin about this?”
“Of course. It affects both of you. Don’t be surprised if he isn’t very enthusiastic.”
They finished their desserts in silence. When Gigi dropped off the bill and the to-go order, Shiori handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
“Oh. Wow. Thank you.”
But Shiori was already engrossed in her phone.
Amery left the remainder of her drink unfinished and stood. “I appreciate your candor and the opportunity, Shiori. Thank you for lunch.”
“You’re welcome.” She pointed to the Styrofoam box. “Want me to take that to Ronin?”
“No. He’s expecting me.”
Shiori unfolded from the booth as sinuously as a feline. She reached into her bag and pulled out a sealed manila envelope. “Here are copies of both contracts with the proposed remuneration. Any questions at all, just call. My cell and my hotel numbers are both listed.”
“Are you still staying at the Ritz?”
“Yes. They’re accommodating and discreet.”
Why would Shiori need discretion?
She followed her outside.
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon.”
A black limo pulled up to the curb. A beefy, good-looking blond guy in a suit exited the passenger side and opened the rear door for her.
According to Ronin, they hadn’t grown up in luxury, surrounded by servants attending to their every whim. Amery wondered at what point Shiori had started acting the part of the billionaire heiress.
And at what point Ronin had rejected it.
CHAPTER SIX
RONIN was finishing his grocery order when he heard the elevator engage.
“Yes. Go ahead and fillet the tilapia. Whole-grain English muffins. Canned coconut milk. The light kind. Pine nuts. Three pounds of baby sweet potatoes. Five pounds of seasonal fruit—but not all apples or pears. Mangos are fine. A bag of whole Kona coffee beans. Yes. That should do it. Tomorrow after nine is fine. Thank you.”
Amery stopped on the opposite side of the serving bar. “Who was that?”
“Harvest Table.”
“Ronin, I told you I can pick up groceries.”
“And I told you after I felt better I’d feed you.” He noticed her furrowed brow. “Did lunch with my sister give you indigestion?”
She glanced up. “No. It was very . . . enlightening.” She slid a to-go box toward him. “Brought you a sandwich. Don’t worry. It’s healthy.”
Ronin moved in beside her and curled his hand around the back of her neck. Their mouths met, and she leaned into him, letting him lead the kiss. But when he tried to break their lip-lock, she growled and chased his mouth until he was kissing her again.
“Baby,” he said between tiny love bites, “I have only so much control. Keep kissing me like this and I’m fucking you against the refrigerator.”
“But I love kissing you.”
“My lips are yours, anytime you want them. Right now, though, I need them to eat.”
Amery was distracted as she plated his food.
“What did you and Shiori talk about?”
“She brought pictures of your dorky teen years and filled me in on all the crazy stuff you used to do.”
Ronin stopped chewing and looked up at her.
She laughed. “Kidding. But your guilty look means there are things to tell.”
“Not much. I was an exemplary child.”
“Says you. I’d bet that was because you’ve always been such a damn control freak.”
He ignored the comment and continued eating his lunch.
Amery poured two glasses of lemonade. “I’ve been thinking about what you’ve been harping on the past few days.”
Harping on? Really? Bullshit. “And?”
“And you’re right.” She picked up his hand and traced the backs of his fingers. “We need to reconnect sexually because it is a big part of who we were together.”
“Were?”
“Yes, were. We have to take the past into account to go forward. And I realized something else today.”
Why wouldn’t she look at him? “What’s that?”
“Things are starting out between us exactly the same way they did last time. We—I—need to break the cycle.”
“Amery, I’m lost.”
Her gaze collided with his. “Last night you went down on me. Yes, it was as great as it’s always been. So that is the same type of scene as when you poured candle wax on me and got me off with your hand.”
“That’s not the same thing at all. And if you’re looking to even the score—although god knows I’m not keeping track—I’ll drop my pants and you can blow me right here, right now.”
She dropped his hand so fast it smacked into the countertop. Then she stepped back and glared at him. “Omigod. Are you even listening to me?”