“Bullshit.”
Her lips ease into a smile. “It’s the truth. If he doesn’t want to deliver on time without charging a premium, we already have his competitor lined up to fill the gap. Keira and I negotiated the contract last month, and they’re ready to deliver on forty-eight hours’ notice—without a premium. If the jackass wants to be difficult, we can pivot. It wasn’t the plan, but I’m not going to let him think he can hold Seven Sinners hostage. Nothing slows down distilling operations, certainly not arrogant assholes who think they’ve got us by the balls.”
“Is there anything you can’t handle?”
Already today, I’ve listened to her deal with an employee dispute, a customer incident, schedule three consultations for special events, test the receptionist on her tour skills, and that was on top of her fingers flying across the keyboard to answer emails, review contracts, and argue with the lawyer about a negotiation point she wouldn’t agree to.
The woman is easily doing three people’s jobs instead of one, and I’m beginning to think she isn’t totally human.
“You need an assistant. Or three.”
She shoots me a wry look. “Iwasthe assistant.”
“You still need more help.”
“Trust me, I know. Keira knows too. She left a note that interviews will be scheduled for next week as soon as I’m finished reviewing this stack of résumés and highlighting the most qualified applicants who don’t sound like assholes.” She pats a pile of papers on her right, which is next to a stack of contracts she already told me was up next on the to-do list.
“Does it ever slow down?”
“It hasn’t yet,” she answers with a shake of her head.
I glance at the clock on the wall and realize it’s nearing noon, which explains my growling stomach. “Do you ever stop to eat?”
Before she can answer, her phone rings and she grimaces.
She answers with a cheery greeting, but I hear the stressed edge of her tone. She might be good at this job, but she doesn’t love it. Right now, she’s ingrin and bear itmode.
“Today? I ... well, I could probably make that work. What time?” She pauses and glances at me. “Now? I guess I can do that. Meet upstairs in the restaurant? I’ll bring my planner. Thanks for calling, Yve.”
Temperance hangs up the phone.
“What’s that about?”
She picks up a pencil and spins it between her fingertips. “Another possible event.”
“Woman, you need to eat.”
“I will. Lunch meeting just got scheduled.”
“Jesus Christ. It never ends. Who are you meeting? I need background. You’re not sitting across the table from anyone I don’t okay.”
Temperance rolls her eyes. “She’s not a threat. She’s a friend. A new friend.”
“New friend? I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it, but Yve isn’t a threat. She owns a couple of shops in the Quarter.”
“What kind of shops?”
“Well, lingerie, for one.”
“So after work ... you’re planning on shopping.”
“You wish,” Temperance says as she rises and gathers up her planner and a notepad.
Oh, princess, you have no idea what I wish.
19