His One and Only by Theodora Taylor Page A

than she had.
    She turned to leave again, her mind spinning with this new set of problems, but then Beau said, “Hold up, Josie, I’m not done.”
    She turned back to him, furious now. “It doesn’t matter if you’re not done, Beau Prescott. I’m done with you. I just want to go pack my things and try to forget I ever let myself get to the point where I was forced to take a job from you.”
    “You weren’t working for me . As your little phone call proved, you were working for my mother. Didn’t you say she was the one signing your paychecks?”
    “Paycheck,” she answered, folding her arms. “So far I’ve only earned one for the week of work I did, getting the house ready before you actually got here.”
    His face darkened then. “If you’re looking for another job, I could give you one.”
    She scrunched her forehead. “First you fire me and now you’re offering me another job?”
    “Like I said, I don’t want you on my mother’s payroll.”
    She frowned. “What exactly would this job involve, Mr. Prescott?”
    “Basically, it would be your old job. Plus…” He pointed in her direction. “You…” He then pointed at himself. “Me… Sex. Whenever and however I want it. And I’ll double whatever my mother is paying you.”
    She stared at him for what had to be a full minute, she was that shocked. In fact, she’d probably have kept on like that if he hadn’t asked, “So what’s your answer?”
    She had to swallow, because the first time she tried to respond, she found her throat had gone completely dry. “No!” she said, yanking her arm from his grip. “The answer’s no, of course!”
    His jaw tightened. “How about if I triple it?”
    Her eyes went wide. “I’m not a hooker, Beau Prescott. How dare you—”
    “I know you’re not a hooker. A hooker wouldn’t give me near this much trouble. But you’re the only one here, so…” He seemed to think about it. “Fine, one-hundred times whatever my mother was paying you. But that’s my final offer.”
    Her first instinct was to say no, a very emphatic no, possibly followed up by a slap and a very dramatic exit, but against her will, the hourly wage he was now offering her popped into her mind’s eye. It flashed at her like a neon sign, while the right side of her brain ran a calculation. With a salary like that, it would take her less than a month to pay off her bills, pay for the rest of her college courses, and keep Ruth’s House funded for another year. Just four weeks and she’d be an independent woman: debt-free, and more importantly, Prescott-free.
    Her voice shook. “Are you serious?”
    He went very, very still, and the humid air in the room seemed to hang heavier, thick with anticipation.
    “I don’t lie,” he said. “And I don’t make offers that I don’t intend to honor.”
    “Yes, but—” She swallowed. “I just want to make sure I heard you right.”
    He took a step closer to her, leaving nothing but a thin sliver of air between them. “If you sleep with me, I’ll pay you one hundred times whatever my mother was paying you. Deal or no deal?”
    Her pride was screaming, “No!” But her brain was busy laying out what she could have if she ignored her pride and took the deal. There was also something else rooting for her to give in—something inside of her that was more than a little interested in the prospect of sleeping with the grown man version of Beau.
    But she ignored that part and straightened herself up, lifting her chin and trying her best to act like the kind of jaded person who would actually take a deal like this. “You don’t know how much your mother is paying me. How about if it’s more than you can afford?”
    “I’ve got a trust fund I’ve never touched, and I’ve been a professional quarterback all my working life.” His voice sounded thick and dark when he said, “Believe me, I can afford you.”
    “I can’t be your...” She pushed the first word that came to her mind,