The Elliotts: Mixing Business with Pleasure: Billionaire's Proposition / Taking Care of Business / Cause for Scandal. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
Tia said. “Not to upset Miss Layven, but Pulse is way better than HomeStyle.”
Gannon smiled. “Thank you. I’m partial to it. And Miss Layven will be moving permanently to the Pulse team as soon as we can arrange it.”
Tia gaped at Erika. “That is just so cool.”
“If you want to get a makeover for your math classroom, better start asking now,” Gannon said.
Erika looked at him. “You’re serious.”
“Sure. Decorating, human interest and community service. I may even lift a brush in contribution.”
Erika did a double take. “I didn’t know you could paint.”
He tossed her a dark look. “It’s not that difficult.”
“But do you have actual personal experience?” she asked in disbelief. After all, Gannon was a billionaire. Why would he need to paint?
Gannon nodded. “Yes. Teagan, Liam, Cullen and I painted the boathouse one weekend when we were teenagers. My grandfather thought it would build character.”
“Did it?” Erika couldn’t resist asking.
“It increased my desire to make good grades so I wouldn’t have to paint for a living,” he said.
A new story about Gannon’s past. Delighted, Erika smiled, feeling as if she’d been given jewelry.
“Grades again,” Tia said. “You sound like Miss Layven.”
“Good to know we agree on a couple of things,” he muttered. “How long are you two planning to be here?”
“We’re actually leaving,” Erika said. “Hot chocolate, then I’ll put Tia in a cab. School night.”
Tia wrinkled her nose.
“Mind if I join you?” Gannon asked. “I can offer the use of my car.”
“Cool,” Tia said. “Is it a limo?”
Gannon’s lips twitched in humor. “Sorry, just a chauffeured Town Car.”
“That’s okay,” Tia said. “It might look too pimpin’ if we showed up in a limo in my neighborhood.”
“You really don’t need to do this,” Erika said, thinking about the return ride in his hired car, alone with him. How was she going to stick to her two-foot rule in the backseat of his car?
“No problem. We can discuss the classroom makeover and then you and I can talk some Pulse possibilities on the return drive.”
Erika grudgingly had to admit that Gannon was on his best behavior with Tia. He answered her questions, gently teased her and encouraged her about her studies. He picked up the tab for the hot chocolate and during the drive to Tia’s apartment he asked her how she would like to see the room decorated.
“It needs to be a bright color so we’ll stay awake,” Tia said. “Yellow …”
“Research indicates that babies cry more in rooms painted yellow and people tend to become more emotional,” Erika said.
Gannon threw her a questioning glance. “How do you know that about babies?”
Erika shrugged. “Just one of those things I picked up through HomeStyle. Red is a stimulating color, but some studies indicate an association with aggression.”
Tia rolled her eyes. “We don’t need no more aggression. There’s fights every day.”
“Any more aggression,” Erika automatically corrected. “And there are fights every day.”
“That’s what I said,” Tia said.
Gannon made an amused choking sound.
“Don’t say no right away. But I’d like you to consider pink,” Erika said.
“Pink?” Gannon echoed in a combination of disbelief and distaste.
“Put your macho attitude aside for a moment if you can,” Erika said.
Tia shook her head. “I can’t do pink. The guys would never stop making fun of me. And they would be impossible in the classroom.”
“Studies indicate that students perform better in a classroom painted pink. Not only do they perform better but they’re happier.”
Silence followed.
Gannon gave Erika a considering glance and rubbed his finger over his mouth. Erika told herself to look away from his mouth. Away.
He looked at Tia. “I think you should do some research on how color affects mood and write a very short article. With Miss Layven’s approval, Home-Style can print your short article within the classroom redo feature. You choose the redo, within reason, based on your research and you get a writing credit.”
Tia dropped her jaw. “Me? Write an article for HomeStyle? Have my name in the magazine? I can’t wait to tell my friends.”
Erika couldn’t help smiling at Tia’s excitement.
“Omigod,” Tia said. “I mean, it would be much more sweet to be in Pulse or Snap or Charisma,” she said, listing EPH’s most successful magazines. “But this is cool, too.” She shook her head in disbelief. “My name in a national magazine.”
“You’ll need to do your research,” Erika said.
“I will,” Tia agreed.
“And Miss Layven will edit your article. You need to be prepared for rewrites,” Gannon said.
“That’s okay. I can do that,” she said, nodding as the car pulled in front of her apartment building. She looked from Gannon to Erika, then back at Gannon. She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Thank you so much, Mr. Elliott! I won’t disappoint you.”
She turned to Erika and threw her arms around her. “Miss Layven, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Surprised at Tia’s emotional display, Erika hesitated a half second before she returned the teen’s embrace. Her heart twisted with an odd emotion. “I know you’re going to do an awesome job, Tia.”
“Yes, I will,” Tia said and pulled back, pointing her index finger at Erika. “You can count on me.”
Gannon opened the car door and slid out so Tia could climb out of the car. “Bye!” she said and darted for the front door of the apartment.
Erika and Gannon waited until she was safely inside, then Gannon got back into the car and gave Erika’s address to the driver.
Her emotions swinging in several different directions at once, Erika didn’t say anything for a long moment. A big part of her wished Gannon hadn’t been so charming, so generous tonight. It would have been easier for her to not like him. His suggestion to allow Tia to write an article, however, felt like an arrow to her Achilles’ heel. In an effort to keep from throwing herself at him, she put her purse on the bench seat between them. She needed a barrier. A steel wall would be best.
She swallowed over a knot of emotion in her throat. “That was brilliant and generous. Thank you. For Tia. For me. For HomeStyle …”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now you owe me.”
Five
You owe me.
Erika’s heart stuttered and she felt her mouth go bone-dry. “Uh, owe you?”
“Yep,” he said with a sexy grin playing around the edges of his mouth. “Payback’s hell. I want you to play volleyball on Saturday afternoon.”
The lascivious thought racing