“You’ll have to do better than that to convince me.”
“All right.” Sasha nodded. If Jordan Jace needed convincing, she could handle that. “Your work with underprivileged kids is as important to you as bringing beauty into the world through your art.” When he didn’t reply, she indicated the table where Marcus’s sculpture stood. “This is the legacy you want to leave, isn’t it? A man who left the world, and the people in it, in a much better state than he found them.”
Jordan rubbed his chin and cleared his throat. She’d touched a nerve and it made him uncomfortable.
Good.
He had to be willing to get uncomfortable if they were going to work together. Evidently, she’d have to accept operating outside of her comfort zone, too.
“Well, Miss Charles, why don’t you let me think about your request and get back to you?” Jordan headed for the door.
Panic spread through Sasha’s chest. She’d pushed him too hard. Now she needed to play the card she’d been holding on to.
“You never did get an answer to your question.” She remained rooted in her spot, though her pulse raced.
Jordan turned back to her. “About?”
“Which member of Prescott George invited me here tonight?”
“No, I didn’t, did I?” He folded his arms, one brow raised. She’d gotten his attention. “Who do I have to thank for the lovely sales pitch?”
Sasha inhaled deeply. Tried to keep her limbs from trembling. “Jonathan Jace.”
“My father invited you here? Why? He doesn’t give one whit whether or not the gallery is successful.”
“I doubt that’s true.” She stepped closer, shrinking the gap between them. “But your mother obviously does. She’s the person who hired me.”
“Exactly when did you plan to tell me all this?” Jordan scowled.
“When it became relevant.” Sasha maintained his gaze and shrugged. “It just did.”
“So this entire performance tonight was an elaborate ruse at my expense?”
“No, it was a test.” She stepped even closer, forcing her gaze to meet his. “For both of us. I needed to know that you were someone I could work with. That your art and what you stand for are things I believe in. Without that foundation, there’s no way I can sell your brand to the world.”
“And what’s the verdict?” He folded his arms and stared down his nose at her.
“I was already a fan of the art. But now I’m infinitely impressed with the artist.” Sasha smiled, invoking his earlier statement.
Jordan shook his head and seemed to chuckle, in spite of himself. “Okay, Sasha.” He put emphasis on the use of her given name again. “I’ll make you a deal.”
She folded her arms and tipped her chin upward. “Let’s hear it.”
“I’ll listen to your proposal for expanding my brand...over dinner. My treat.”
Sasha inhaled deeply. Tried not to let him see her blink or how her knees were trembling. She gripped her clutch tightly with both hands and exhaled slowly. “A working dinner?”
“If it makes you feel better to call it that.”
“What would you call it?” The brooch on her silk clutch dug into her skin.
“A date, of course.” Jordan chuckled in response to her opened mouth and widened eyes. His nostrils flared and a sexy-as-sin smirk curved one side of his sensuous mouth. “Careful, love. Now I can see you a bit more clearly.”
“What do you mean?” Heat crawled up her spine and the space between them seemed to evaporate.
“You’re Miss Prim and Proper. The one who can’t bear the thought of breaking the rules.” He walked around her, studying her as if she were a museum piece. He leaned in closer. His warm breath tickled her skin. His tone was teasing. “I doubt you’ve ever knowingly broken a single rule.”
Heat filled her cheeks and a knot tightened in her belly. Yes, he was definitely testing her.
If Jordan Jace thought she’d be run off by a little teasing and a lot of flirtation, he had no idea whom he was dealing with. Unlike Jordan, Sasha hadn’t come from money. But she knew how to play the game, and she wasn’t easily intimidated. And dealing with a difficult client? That was just her average Tuesday.
Sasha lengthened her spine, her eyes meeting his. “Just tell me when and where.”
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