omitting the tiny little detail that Grady had mistaken her for woman who traded sex for money. And she wasn’t about to mention the fact that he’d kissed her. Knowing Randi, she’d blow the whole thing out of proportion. It was just…a kiss. It wasn’t like Grady Sinclair actually had any real interest in her.
“Obviously you made quite an impression,” Randi answered in a teasing voice.
“I can’t keep these. Why did he do this?” Emily pulled off the new glasses.
“You need them. Keep them.” Reaching out stealthily, Randi snatched Emily’s old glasses away from her and put them in her pocket. “Just so you know, these are going to go missing unless you absolutely need them for some kind of emergency. And now…you don’t need them.” Chuckling softly, Randi scampered out of Emily’s office.
“Miranda Tyler, bring those back here.” Emily put the new glasses back on and followed Randi, only to find that Randi had grabbed her stuff and left like her ass was on fire.
“Damn.” Emily plopped back into her chair in the office. Would they even let her return the glasses now that they had been made for her? Probably not. And she’d be hard-pressed to come up with the money to pay them off.
Grady paid. I have to pay him. Why did he do it?
Emily dug through her purse and pulled out Grady’s card. He’d called her last night, sounding almost upset that she hadn’t already called him to let him know she’d made it home. Stopping at the grocery store first, she had just been coming through the door when her cell phone rang. He’d gotten the account number for the Center’s bank account, and then they had talked about everything and nothing for two hours. Grady Sinclair was blunt, gruff, and okay…maybe he could be a bit abrupt and intimidating, but the problem was…she actually liked him. His public image was all wrong, and Grady was a complete fraud. Underneath his rough exterior was a man with a good heart. Emily was almost certain of that. There was no artificial charm or smoothness to Grady, and that made him that much hotter. He was all male, all the time, and everything feminine inside her reacted to that, reacted to him.
Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she laid his card on the desk, and brought up her email.
Dear Mr. Sinclair,
Thank you for your generous donation to the Youth Center Of Amesport.
I am in receipt of the package you sent today. I hope you will be able to accept payment arrangements for the contents. Although I was planning to purchase some products I needed from Dr. Pope, I hadn’t planned to buy all this right now. It’s an unexpected expense that I haven’t budgeted to purchase. Can I make monthly payments to you?
Regards,
Emily Ashworth
His reply came through about ten minutes later.
Emily,
Your glasses are scratched and you need them. I used to wear glasses when I was younger, and trying to see around scratches is annoying. If you try to pay me, I’ll find a way to get my donation back. And there is no Mr. Sinclair at this email address.
G.
Emily knew she should be angry, but she actually burst out laughing at his reply. There was no professional politeness with Grady. He got right to the point. She sent another lightning fast reply.
Mr. Sinclair,
We’ve already discussed the terms of our agreement, and this was not part of that verbal contract. Are you going to take the installment payments or not?
Regards,
Emily Ashworth
His reply arrived within minutes.
Emily,
No. I’m not. The agreement was never solid and is still negotiable. I specifically remember you saying you would do whatever you could to get me what I wanted—short of fucking me. That’s a pretty broad statement. I wanted to give you the glasses and contacts as a gift. End of discussion. I also want you to call me Grady, or you’ll pay later for ignoring my request.
G.
It took Emily several minutes to compose herself, shocked and amused by his candid response. She couldn’t