Queen for a Day (BBW Billionaire Romance) Read Online Free
Author: Christa Wick
anything other than sarcastic. I wrapped one hand around the armrest and placed the other palm flat against the cushion, my gaze on the open steam trunk.
Before I could push up and begin gathering my things for an awkward return to the guest room, Parisi captured my wrist.
"I wasn't mocking you, Nadine," he assured me, his thumb stroking at the inside bend of my wrist. "It is heartbreaking when any child is estranged from a parent."
He tilted his head in my direction, his brows lifting and his mouth twisting into a grimace. "Of course, I would be lying if I didn't acknowledge your history is also great public relations material."
"Yeah," I growled. "That's what Roland Stump said."
His grimace magnified and traveled through his body with a deep shudder. "Was The Stump supposed to be one of your angel investors?"
He was and everything had almost ground to a halt after that particular meeting.
"He made an offer I couldn't accept," I said.
"Tell me, Nadine," Parisi asked, his hand smoothing up as he shifted his grip from my wrist to my elbow. "I don't want to make the same mistake."
My tongue crawled inside my mouth with the same squirmy disgust as if I'd just bit into a big juicy burger and found it loaded with maggots.
"He loved it," I started before I choked on the sensation and the memory that produced it. "Loved the clothes, the make up, the story about me and my mom, her ties to the fashion world and my dad's career as an Egyptologist."
Sucking in a hard breath, I recounted the sucker punch Stump had delivered to me. "He just wanted a white chick to sell it, said the market would marginalize the products if the line was perceived as being for women of color."
He released my arm to slap at his own leg, his response issuing in a vehement torrent.
" Cazzo di merda !"
"Uhm...that might have matched my reply," I politely laughed although I had no idea what he had just said. "What was that?"
His cheeks colored for a second until a contrite grin erased the pink. "I plan on teaching you a lot of Italian, bella , but not those words."
Clearing his throat, he stood, pulled one of the side chairs in front of me and sat down. We faced one another without our bodies touching. His hands wrapped around his knees and he leaned forward. "We are going to take your line global. Three quarters of the earth's women are women of color. And unlike whatever anorexic stick The Stump was going to use as a mouthpiece, you're far more representative of our average customer in ways that go beyond skin tone."
I tried to smile, but his saying that I was average popped my enthusiasm bubble. I was pitching old world beauty with a modern twist. Mystique and elegance -- not won't eat her cauliflower and hates the gym. And I had tried to look the part, as best as I could, both before and after the costume change he had demanded.
His fingers slid from his knees to lightly brush against mine. Leaning in even closer, his voice dropped low. "I would very much like to invest in your company Nadine - if you'll agree to my terms."
"Your terms?" I barely got the question out. My voice wavered, my knees would have knocked together if he wasn't touching them. None of the discussions with the other investors had gone anything like this. Some of them couldn't be bothered to look up from their computers, some of them, like Roland Stump, tried to bully me if they were the least bit interested. Not one of them had touched me beyond a handshake at most. Each exchange this evening with Parisi seemed dipped in intimacy with an undercurrent of more to come.
"I'll invest three million--"
I shook my head and pushed his hands away. I knew where this was going, he wanted a controlling share. I wasn't going to give it. Delaying my dream was the lesser evil compared to handing it over for someone else to achieve.
"If you think I'm going to agree to slicing off a bigger split--"
He placed a finger lightly against my lips. "Same split, cara. "
I turned my head. I
Before I could push up and begin gathering my things for an awkward return to the guest room, Parisi captured my wrist.
"I wasn't mocking you, Nadine," he assured me, his thumb stroking at the inside bend of my wrist. "It is heartbreaking when any child is estranged from a parent."
He tilted his head in my direction, his brows lifting and his mouth twisting into a grimace. "Of course, I would be lying if I didn't acknowledge your history is also great public relations material."
"Yeah," I growled. "That's what Roland Stump said."
His grimace magnified and traveled through his body with a deep shudder. "Was The Stump supposed to be one of your angel investors?"
He was and everything had almost ground to a halt after that particular meeting.
"He made an offer I couldn't accept," I said.
"Tell me, Nadine," Parisi asked, his hand smoothing up as he shifted his grip from my wrist to my elbow. "I don't want to make the same mistake."
My tongue crawled inside my mouth with the same squirmy disgust as if I'd just bit into a big juicy burger and found it loaded with maggots.
"He loved it," I started before I choked on the sensation and the memory that produced it. "Loved the clothes, the make up, the story about me and my mom, her ties to the fashion world and my dad's career as an Egyptologist."
Sucking in a hard breath, I recounted the sucker punch Stump had delivered to me. "He just wanted a white chick to sell it, said the market would marginalize the products if the line was perceived as being for women of color."
He released my arm to slap at his own leg, his response issuing in a vehement torrent.
" Cazzo di merda !"
"Uhm...that might have matched my reply," I politely laughed although I had no idea what he had just said. "What was that?"
His cheeks colored for a second until a contrite grin erased the pink. "I plan on teaching you a lot of Italian, bella , but not those words."
Clearing his throat, he stood, pulled one of the side chairs in front of me and sat down. We faced one another without our bodies touching. His hands wrapped around his knees and he leaned forward. "We are going to take your line global. Three quarters of the earth's women are women of color. And unlike whatever anorexic stick The Stump was going to use as a mouthpiece, you're far more representative of our average customer in ways that go beyond skin tone."
I tried to smile, but his saying that I was average popped my enthusiasm bubble. I was pitching old world beauty with a modern twist. Mystique and elegance -- not won't eat her cauliflower and hates the gym. And I had tried to look the part, as best as I could, both before and after the costume change he had demanded.
His fingers slid from his knees to lightly brush against mine. Leaning in even closer, his voice dropped low. "I would very much like to invest in your company Nadine - if you'll agree to my terms."
"Your terms?" I barely got the question out. My voice wavered, my knees would have knocked together if he wasn't touching them. None of the discussions with the other investors had gone anything like this. Some of them couldn't be bothered to look up from their computers, some of them, like Roland Stump, tried to bully me if they were the least bit interested. Not one of them had touched me beyond a handshake at most. Each exchange this evening with Parisi seemed dipped in intimacy with an undercurrent of more to come.
"I'll invest three million--"
I shook my head and pushed his hands away. I knew where this was going, he wanted a controlling share. I wasn't going to give it. Delaying my dream was the lesser evil compared to handing it over for someone else to achieve.
"If you think I'm going to agree to slicing off a bigger split--"
He placed a finger lightly against my lips. "Same split, cara. "
I turned my head. I
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