I’d be impressed if she hadn’t just outmaneuvered me.
Never care too much.
It’s the cardinal rule of negotiation and I broke it the moment I handed over my business card, signaling my level of investment. Signaling the fact that I wasn’t prepared to walk away.
All because I hadn’t wanted to disappoint Scarlett.
Kylie steps away to give us some privacy and the moment she’s out of earshot, my co-chair goes on the offensive.
“What is there to discuss? We need that photo booth, and a few pictures is a small price to pay.”
Says the woman who’s never had her face splashed all over the tabloids.
“I’m sure we can find another rental company—”
“There is no other rental company. I’ve called them all.” Her voice climbs an octave and the words echo in the cavernous warehouse, taunting me. “Come on, Nick. We have to do this.”
“The hell we do.”
“You said you were onboard with the photo booth.”Which was clearly a mistake. “You can’t back out now.”
I jerk my chin toward Kylie, who’s pretending not to listen. “That was before Blackmail Betty over there announced her terms.”
“That’s rich. What was it you told me?” She pretends to think it over, eyes turned skyward in mock concentration. “Oh, right.” She snaps her fingers. “It’s just a bargaining chip to reach a mutually beneficial agreement.”
“Bargaining chip my ass.” I scour my brain for an alternate solution and come up empty.
Scarlett looks up at me from under her lashes, eyes bright. “Please?”
The request is fraught with vulnerability, and against my better judgment, I find myself relenting.
“Fine. I’ll do it.” I shove my hands in my pockets, praying I won’t regret this. “How bad can it be?”
Chapter Thirteen
Scarlett
The thrill of victory pulses through my veins as Kylie sets up a photo booth in the showroom, a large greige space with tinted windows, tile floors, and the kind of easy-to-clean furniture that wears well and doesn’t show dirt. Like the warehouse, it’s got an industrial feel, but it’s far more comfortable and has better lighting for pictures.
Pictures.
If someone had told me this morning that I’d convince Nick Hart to pose in a photo booth, I’d have laughed at the suggestion, yet here we are.
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.
Beside me, Nick tugs at the collar of his shirt. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Same, but I’m not about to admit it aloud.
“Relax. I doubt anyone will even see them. No one actually reads website testimonials.” I turn to give him what I hope is a reassuring smile because there’s no way I’m letting him back out now. Not when these pictures are our ticket to securing the last photo booth in Austin. “We’ll be done in no time. Then we can head back to the office and forget about the whole thing.”
“I should be so lucky.”
Kylie flips a switch and the photo booth comes to life, the bright lights reflecting off the sparkly pink backdrop like it’s a freaking disco ball. Red and white hearts dangle like garland with glittery messages likeBe Mine,Hot Stuff, andSqueeze Me.
Nick mutters something that sounds like “You’ve got to be shitting me,” but I pretend not to hear and clap my hands together. “This is incredible, Kylie. Perfect for our event.”
The manager grins. “Glad you like it. I figured since y’all are doing a Valentine’s social, we should use the same theme for our promo shots.” She cocks her head and adjusts the camera height. “It’ll give the impression the photos were taken at the event and not in the showroom.”
