The nerve of that man!

Rain pitter-pattered against the front window of the car, causing an already irritated Olivia Hensen to strain for sight. She had one mission, one sole goal, that she knew she had to accomplish whether she wanted to or not. Get Marx to quit acting like a coward, and get him to go after Mary.

Michael Marx had been nothing but a perpetual pain in her ass, and to say she was anxious to get rid of him would be an understatement. Whether he was the biggest commission she'd ever received or not, she was absolutely tired of dealing with his arrogance and pity poor me mindframe.

To think he honestly considered himself her only client was more than absurd. Anyone with half a brain knew she was one of the busiest women in her field. One lonely millionaire with a temper fuse the size of a penny would do nothing to change that.

"Ms. Hensen, I have dinner at six which I was fully expecting to bring Mary to," he'd stated full of anger and impatience. "If you don't find me a replacement before then, I think it's safe to assume that you won't be receiving the price I offered you for your services."

"Like I'm just supposed to wave a magic wand and make you not be the arrogant prick you are," she'd thought to herself in return.

Honestly, it was his fault he'd run Mary off. She was a nice woman, sweet, caring and age appropriate. The type of woman Michael wasn't used to dating, and never would've snagged without Olivia's help. Everything had been going well too-- at least until today. One huge lapse in judgement and it'd all gone downhill.

According to Mary, Michael had been in a board meeting with his staff when she showed up at his office. His secretary had gone to retrieve him, like he'd told her to do beforehand, but a combination of irritation over the way his meeting was going, and a horrible temper, resulted in a blow-up of catastrophic proportions.

First he'd called Mary needy, a character flaw that he was obviously projecting onto her. Then, in an attempt to smooth her reaction, he'd offered her money. Like money would buy her forgiveness.

Needless to say Mary, being the woman she was, had turned and fled the office before he was able to make a bigger fool of himself than he already had.

But the damage was done. Michael had successfully screwed up another relationship and, like all of her other clients, expected Olivia to snap her fingers and make another woman appear. Not this time.

She pulled her car into the parking lot of Marx & Co. and grumbled to herself as she stepped onto the slick concrete. If there was one thing that Michael was good at it was business. She'd just have to put this whole thing to him in the type of mind frame he'd understand-- you messed up so you fix it. No arguments.

Michael was pacing the entrance to his office when she arrived at the top floor. He eyed her appearance incredulously -- a look that made her own temper flare.

I was right in the middle of a workout! What did you expect?

"Pardon my appearance but you said to get here now," she stated, brushing wet strands of blonde hair out of her eyes. "I didn't have the luxury of changing."

"I said that thinking you'd be dressed in your normal work attire. This is a Fortune 500 company, Ms. Hensen, you are aware of that. Correct?"

"As I stated before, Mr. Marx, I didn't have time to change."

He frowned and a series of thin lines settled into his face. From where she stood she could see the distraught clearly visible in his expression. The normal confidence he exuded seemed to have been drained from him, and left in its wake was the shell of a man who knew he'd screwed up. His current state, however, was no excuse for his rudeness.

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