Summer Kisses. Melinda Curtis
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Her determination to refuse him wavered. If she took this job, she’d see Flynn every day. A daily opportunity for attraction to bloom and cause complications. Complications to the lawsuit, to her equilibrium, to her heart.
None of that mattered as much as it should. Edwin needed good care and she could give it to him.
As if sensing her capitulation, Flynn named a generous hourly wage.
Part of her wanted to accept the indecent sum. The sensible part of her realized it would only make her look guilty in his eyes. And others.
She snuck a glance at the penny again, at President Lincoln’s wise stare.
It was official. She was nuts. “I’ll take half that an hour.” It was what the agency would have paid her.
Flynn started to protest, but she’d have none of it. “That’s my going rate. Take it or leave it. I won’t let you overpay me.”
He chuckled mirthlessly. “Everyone lets me overpay them.”
“Then you’re a gullible fool. I can work for you until my hearing. In exchange, I want a letter of reference from your grandfather.”
He cocked one burnished eyebrow. “Why not from me? I’ll be the one paying you.”
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, when in fact she’d sell her wounded soul for two good references. “Okay, I’ll take both.” The combination was a one-two punch that could knock the lawsuit against her off its foundation.
“Let’s shake on the deal.” Flynn’s smile didn’t penetrate her armor. She was ready for it this time.
Their hands met in midair.
Becca told herself she felt nothing.
She was a horrible liar.
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