Brent leaned back in his chair, his gray eyes looking as if they were memorizing her features. “Business first.”
“Business, Brent. I don’t mix that with anything else. I’m a serious artist and if you’re serious about your offer, I want to know exactly what it is.”
He snagged his wine glass then swirled it in his hand. A wry grin creased his face. “I like you, Fiona. You know what you want.”
“I do and if you aren’t my means to that then I need to move on and not waste either of our times.”
She glanced out the window again. They sat at a table for two and the streetlights were below them, illuminating the sidewalk. Fiona didn’t notice anyone lingering. The building across the street was dark, but she couldn’t see on the roof. When had she become paranoid?
“Pragmatic as well as beautiful.”
“Seriously Brent. This isn’t a date. You don’t need to flatter me. You know I have no job and you have the upper hand. Let’s get to what we need to discuss.”