“Instead, my wedding present . . . will be you.” She whipped around, and I finally saw some emotion on her face as she glared at me. “I’m not on the table.” And I couldn’t help but smile down at her, my dirty mind finding the double meaning. “You work for me until the wedding. That’s the deal. Go and tell him my terms.” I backed away, suddenly very confident. “And you’ll find out that you’re exactly what I said you were. Toy or tool. Nothing more.”
