Persephone

Chapter 5

I curled my features into a pleasant smile as he turned to look to the waiting room.

"Ah, the lovely lady who runs Gracie's Clover. How are you doing?" His voice was just as deep as I remembered, but he still had the purr when he spoke to the previous man. There was a curl to his lip, and though he looked friendly, he was unsettlingly focused on me.

"Quite alright, and you, Mr. Russo?" I asked, standing from my seat.

"As well," he said with that focused smile and unwavering eyes. He didn't look away even while he gestured to the door of his office, saying, "Please, have a seat inside. Can I get you a glass of water?"

"Thank you, but I am quite alright," I chirped, stepping past him to his office.

I had to control myself from breathing too heavily as he walked closely behind me. Not close enough for me to feel his breath on my neck but close enough that I sensed he was there.

It was a head-spinning feeling, and I had to focus and make sure I wasn't to be intimidated into agreement.

"Have a seat," Mr. Russo said, stepping past me. He gestured for two small leather armchairs which stood on one side of a large wooden desk.

He stepped around the desk to his own seat, and leaned with his forearms braced on the top of the desk.

I clenched my jaw to keep myself from swallowing back my nerves.

I murmured my gratitude and sat directly across from him.

We sat in silence for several heartbeats, staring at each other.

He eyed me as though he looked through foggy glass to the contents inside. To him, I must be like a window shop. What goods do I have for him, and what use they could be to him?

I did the same to him, though I couldn't see his thoughts like he likely could mine.

He was like a large block of coal, simmering with the slightest bit of heat. There was nothing appealing about him beyond his handsome face and good physique, and I knew the best way to use him would be to keep a distance. Keep him away from my beloved belongings for fear of fire.

The silence was beginning to grate on my nerves, and before I lost all composure, I asked, "Is the offer still available?"

"Yes, it is. Have you come to accept it?" He asked.

I couldn't help but catch his words. If not to accept it, why would I have this far into the city?

Puzzled, I opened my mouth, ready to say, "Of course."

Then I caught the slip-up that I almost made — accepting a deal without negotiation.

I closed my mouth, pinching my lips in humor.

"I have come to negotiate this deal. Please, tell me what you have mind," I told him.

He looked to the blank papers on his desk and scoffed ever so slightly.

"I supply you the jewels needed for your pieces, and with each sale, I earn a commission of seventy percent for a single jewel in the piece, and an additional two percent for each additional jewel in the piece. Also, each piece will be stamped with my company, should it use my jewels." He informed me with a pleasant smirk.

I didn't need even a minute to think about his offer.

"I can agree to a stamp with your company's logo or name, and I can also agree to a reasonable commission, but with what you're suggesting, I would have to increase my prices to make a reasonable profit for myself, which I refuse." I told him smoothly.

His brows flicked up and his expression seemed just slightly impressed, but then he gestured around, almost angrily, "I am a business, and mining for jewels is no easy task. I can shift the commission per jewel, but I also need to think of my own business."

"Certainly, but in my eyes, you only supply the jewels. You aren't designing nor creating the pieces meant to showcase the jewels. Think of it this way, Mr. Russo: Think of the most beautiful painting you have ever seen. Does it not have a frame to compliment it? Think of the colors on the canvas, how they meld into a picturesque scene. Certainly without the paint and without the frame, the picture would be nothing more than a blank yellow canvas. That is your business, Mr. Russo. You hand me a blank canvas and expect to get most of the profits. I can understand if you cut the jewels into their shapes, graded them to their value, but I still have to frame them to be sold." I explained to him, bracing myself to stand from my seat and exit the room.

He glared at me, and I felt my heart race and a shudder go down my spine at the loathing in his eyes.

"I cut my own jewels," he stated, though his jaw was clenched and shoulders tight, "What commission would you suggest, then?"

"If you cut your own jewels, then I suggest an even split. Fifty percent in profits, for all jewels. An additional one percent per additional jewel in the piece," I told him.

"Sixty percent baseline," he spat.

I took a deep breath in, feeling disappointed. I was giving leeway by suggesting fifty percent. Quite frankly, cutting only required tools, and obtaining the jewels was a grand feat, but it still wasn't enough to warrant fifty percent in profits when I was designing, creating, and selling the finished product myself.

"I'm afraid, I can only take fifty percent, Mr. Russo," I said, standing. I looked down at him, conveying my disappointment through my face and voice, "I was being quite generous with you, but as they say, if you give an inch, they will take a mile. If you wish to agree to my terms, please come to my shop, but, Mr. Russo, I cannot be as kind as I am today, and so once I leave this room, the commission will be settled at thirty percent."

"Thirty percent?" Mr. Russo bellowed, standing.

I stood my ground though my knees felt like pudding in his anger.

"Good day to you, Mr. Russo, and I do hope the other jewelry shop owners you have spoken to will agree to your terms," I told him before I turned.

I didn't even take a step before Mr. Russo growled lowly, "Fifty percent. Is there anything else you would like included?"

I smiled smugly to myself before I turned to him with a polite smile, and said, "I would like to be in a written contract with a lawyer present when we sign."

"Very well," he gritted out, and a vein popped out on his forehead.

I chuckled ever so quietly before I introduced myself properly, "Oh, and before I forget..."

He began to shake in his rage, and I smiled wider before saying, "I am Lucille Grace."

I looked to the door, saying, "I can see myself out. 'Til next time, Mr. Russo."