Closest To Heaven That I'll Ever Be

11. Proposal

"Alright." I reached forward, picked up the leather folder Draco had abandoned on my coffee table hours ago and placed it between us. "You have my attention."

Draco looked at the folder. Then at me. I sat back against the sofa. "What's your business proposal?"

For the first time all evening, he seemed almost nervous. Not dramatically. Draco Malfoy didn't strike me as someone who became dramatically nervous about much.

But there was a definite shift in him. His shoulders straightened. The easy smile disappeared. He put his glass down.

And suddenly the man who had spent the last few hours laughing about Hogwarts, insulting my staffing choices and telling me stories about Blaise became someone else entirely.

Business Draco. Interesting.

"Before I start," he said, "I want you to understand that nothing I'm about to show you is an expectation."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm not sitting here assuming you're going to agree."

"Good."

"I also don't want you to feel pressured because I've spent time preparing this."

"How much time?"

He gave me a look. "Let me finish."

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"Not particularly." The corner of his mouth twitched.

Then he became serious again. "This is your business."

I nodded.

"Completely yours."

"Yes."

"And if at any point you decide you don't want outside investment, expansion, additional locations or any of the other things I'm going to suggest, then that's the end of it."

I studied him. "No hard feelings?"

"None."

"No mysterious Malfoy lawyers appearing at my door?"

"Only if you insult my vineyards again."

"I make no promises."

That earned a quiet laugh. "But seriously, Addalie." His gaze held mine. "I don't want you agreeing to something because you think I'm doing you a favour."

That caught me. "You aren't?"

"No." He opened the folder. "I'm offering because I believe your business is an exceptional investment."

My eyes dropped towards the pages. "That sounds very official."

"It is."

"Should I be frightened?"

"Probably."

"Excellent."

He slid the first sheet towards me. At the top was the name of my business.

A. APOTHECARY

Underneath were several columns of figures.

I stared. Then looked at Draco. Then back at the parchment.

"Where did you get these?"

"Public records."

"Those are my estimated annual sales."

"Yes."

"Draco."

"They're estimates."

"Very accurate estimates."