suppressed a smile, ducking her head to take another sip of coffee. The little bastards were going to eat him alive.
He looked her up and down, no doubt taking note of her faded jeans and cable-knit sweater. “Seems you’re a bit underdressed.”
“Naturally,” she said, leaning a hip against the island counter, “since you obviously know exactly what we’re doing and where we’re going. Of course I’m the one dressed inappropriately.” Did his face flush slightly?
“If I’m to teach these hoodlums how to function in the corporate world, perhaps they should learn how to dress.”
“Kids need to learn multiplication and division first, Mr. GQ,” she said with a shrug. “Just don’t take anything valuable with you. I guarantee you you’d lose it before the day’s out.”
“Look, if these kids are only there to pick my pockets then there’s no reason for anyone to be there. They need to learn self-control,” he said sternly.
“You have no idea what they need,” she fired back. “Right now, they’re just trying to survive. I’m there to help them acquire the knowledge they need to get out of the ghetto and off the streets. Do I occasionally come up missing something I went in there with? Yes. But I make damned sure I don’t go in with anything I don’t care to part with.” She looked him up and down with the same insulting air he’d given her the day before when they’d met. “And I don’t go in looking like I believe myself better than all of them. Now go back and change. If you don’t have anything appropriate we can stop at a discount mart and get you some jeans and a shirt.”
The look on Maximilian’s face was priceless. “Discount mart?”
“Yeah. You know. The place where you can get everything for a small amount.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back,” he said, looking as horrified and disgruntled as a man could. He did come back with jeans on. They might have been some fancy designer jeans, but they were jeans.
Getting him to agree to have his driver take them to her house to take her car proved more difficult. He’d wanted a quick getaway in case something went wrong.
“Nothing will go wrong, Max,” she insisted. “I do this every week. Nothing has ever happened that drastic.”
“It only takes once,” he said. In the long-sleeved shirt that looked at least one size too small, stretching over his broad chest, powerful shoulders, and defined arms like a second skin, he looked more than capable of taking anything the little punks could dish out if need be.
“I have faith in my bodyguard,” she said with a smile.
“You think I’m your bodyguard?”
Shrugging, Zeta said, “Well, you are my boyfriend. At least for the next six months. If you’re not into that kind of thing—you know, the sticking up for your woman kind of thing—tell me know. Because it’s a deal breaker.” Then she stopped, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Well, it’s one of many deal breakers but I’m leaving the others be for now. One thing at a time.”
“Of course I’d defend you! I may be a bastard, but I’m not a total brute. I just can’t promise I won’t use excessive force. I’m all about the path of least resistance, especially when it’s the quickest route.”
“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “I never would have known.”
He glared at her. “Are we going or not?”
Chapter Seven
Maximilian tried not to be impressed as he sat patiently waiting for Zeta to be finished with the group of ruffians she was currently drilling on multiplication tables. He wanted to feel the need to roll his eyes or to be angry that he’d had to spend the better part of his Saturday watching Zeta baby teenagers who should have mastered multiplication several years before. The whole thing was absurd.
“Hey, mister. You got a dollar?”
Whipping his head around at the sound, Maximilian found a black child around six or seven looking up at him, hand held out as if he fully
He looked her up and down, no doubt taking note of her faded jeans and cable-knit sweater. “Seems you’re a bit underdressed.”
“Naturally,” she said, leaning a hip against the island counter, “since you obviously know exactly what we’re doing and where we’re going. Of course I’m the one dressed inappropriately.” Did his face flush slightly?
“If I’m to teach these hoodlums how to function in the corporate world, perhaps they should learn how to dress.”
“Kids need to learn multiplication and division first, Mr. GQ,” she said with a shrug. “Just don’t take anything valuable with you. I guarantee you you’d lose it before the day’s out.”
“Look, if these kids are only there to pick my pockets then there’s no reason for anyone to be there. They need to learn self-control,” he said sternly.
“You have no idea what they need,” she fired back. “Right now, they’re just trying to survive. I’m there to help them acquire the knowledge they need to get out of the ghetto and off the streets. Do I occasionally come up missing something I went in there with? Yes. But I make damned sure I don’t go in with anything I don’t care to part with.” She looked him up and down with the same insulting air he’d given her the day before when they’d met. “And I don’t go in looking like I believe myself better than all of them. Now go back and change. If you don’t have anything appropriate we can stop at a discount mart and get you some jeans and a shirt.”
The look on Maximilian’s face was priceless. “Discount mart?”
“Yeah. You know. The place where you can get everything for a small amount.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back,” he said, looking as horrified and disgruntled as a man could. He did come back with jeans on. They might have been some fancy designer jeans, but they were jeans.
Getting him to agree to have his driver take them to her house to take her car proved more difficult. He’d wanted a quick getaway in case something went wrong.
“Nothing will go wrong, Max,” she insisted. “I do this every week. Nothing has ever happened that drastic.”
“It only takes once,” he said. In the long-sleeved shirt that looked at least one size too small, stretching over his broad chest, powerful shoulders, and defined arms like a second skin, he looked more than capable of taking anything the little punks could dish out if need be.
“I have faith in my bodyguard,” she said with a smile.
“You think I’m your bodyguard?”
Shrugging, Zeta said, “Well, you are my boyfriend. At least for the next six months. If you’re not into that kind of thing—you know, the sticking up for your woman kind of thing—tell me know. Because it’s a deal breaker.” Then she stopped, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Well, it’s one of many deal breakers but I’m leaving the others be for now. One thing at a time.”
“Of course I’d defend you! I may be a bastard, but I’m not a total brute. I just can’t promise I won’t use excessive force. I’m all about the path of least resistance, especially when it’s the quickest route.”
“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “I never would have known.”
He glared at her. “Are we going or not?”
Chapter Seven
Maximilian tried not to be impressed as he sat patiently waiting for Zeta to be finished with the group of ruffians she was currently drilling on multiplication tables. He wanted to feel the need to roll his eyes or to be angry that he’d had to spend the better part of his Saturday watching Zeta baby teenagers who should have mastered multiplication several years before. The whole thing was absurd.
“Hey, mister. You got a dollar?”
Whipping his head around at the sound, Maximilian found a black child around six or seven looking up at him, hand held out as if he fully
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