"A seat at the table for the next WEG global rebranding campaign. And I’ll cover the lease on the flat in Paris for the next year," I countered. "I’ll also ensure your name is the only one mentioned in the style section for the next three months."
"Make it two years on the flat, and I'll even throw in a scene for the cameras that will make your wife want to pack her bags," she said, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.
"One year, Seraphina. Take it, or I call the girl from the Tokyo agency."
"Fine," she hissed, though I could hear the smirk in her voice. "One year. And I'll be wearing enough of that perfume to make sure everyone within a five-block radius knows I've been sitting next to you. Don't be late, Julian. I hate waiting for men, even billionaire ones."
I hung up a
