I squinted into the mirror at the frightful face squinting back. Hair a disaster (it never made it more than a few hours without need of attention, and my style from earlier was rushed at best, slipshod and sloppy at worst), Lipstick faded from wine to dusky pink, eye make-up smudging and… was that a sauce stain on my dress?

"Oh dear," seemed to be the only appropriate thing to say, before I launched myself into an attempt to make myself presentable again. Although… I stayed my hand for a moment, poised as it was to Scourgify the stain from my dress. It would be sort of amusing to leave myself in this state. Even at my most carefully powdered, polished and coifed, I wasn't the usual flavor of arm candy that accompanied Malfoy. My face was a bit too wide, by lips a bit too thin and my nose a bit too long. Not that I believed myself to be ugly. It was just that Malfoy's name had been associated with the likes of Fleur Delacour, and even his succession of assistants were all well above average. Being seen with me, rumpled as I am, was probably the equivalent of the average man being seen with Millicent Bulstrode.

Poor baby, I thought with a grin.

It would serve him right for dragging me to this event. After some passing mention of the business that he was conducting with Salinger at the start of the evening, he hadn't mentioned anything about the merger they were planning. Malfoy had told me I was there to help him judge Salinger's character, to observe him and look for tell tale signs that he was lying about the state of his business, but so farI hadn't learned anything I didn't already know from the case file. And how the hell was I supposed to determine whether Salinger was lying about the state of his business, if they never discussed it?

Basically, this whole excursion had been utterly pointless.

Not only that, but I was beginning to suspect that the strain of 'making nice' with me was taking its toll on my beloved employer. Well, that wasn't exactly accurate. Stretching him to the breaking point was probably a much more accurate description. Malfoy had been getting increasingly irritable as the night wore on, and it wasn't so much what he said (we were trying to present the image of a couple, after all), but the way he said it. Clipped, with a growing irritation, and a growing… coldness. Like he was trying to pretend like whatever it was that was bothering him, didn't bother him at all.

I snorted, Surely my company wasn't so distasteful.

And if it was, oh well. He could just learn to deal with it. This was his idea, after all.

In fact, the only thing mildly redeeming about this evening had been Salinger. The man seemed absolutely riveted to me, and keenly interested in everything I had to say. I was used to being important, I suppose, and my opinions have always held a great amount of weight, both personally and professionally, but I'd never been the subject of such rapt attention (especially when someone as stunning as Salinger's date was in the near vicinity). Salinger, I thought, was a supremely charming man (though I'll admit it was my conceit that made me like the man so much).

Malfoy, however, wasn't.

No, that wasn't fair. It wasn't quite right, either. In truth, Malfoy was very charming. I'd seen him be charming. To other people, of course. And only when he wanted to be.

Never to me.

In fact, it was one of Malfoy's not-so-charming comments that sent me into the bathroom not five minutes ago, as he leaned his face in close to mine, stilling a laugh that a joke from Salinger had pulled from me only moments before. "Granger," he'd said, his breath vaguely wine tinted, but his speech perfectly sober "you're looking a bit acruffy, aren't you?"

Words whispered low, and spiteful, so only I could hear. I'd grit my teeth, and stomped on his foot, which gave me a small satisfaction, but I'd gotten up anyway, moments later to check my appearance. Which, I suppose brings me back to me, in the bathroom, cleaning my dress, re-applying my lipstick, wiping my eyes, and saying 'screw it' to the hair, which, as was its nature, resisted all attempts at style.

Stupid unpleasant little bastard, anyway. What was the big deal? It wasn't like he had to go home with me tonight. A few more hours, and he'd be off to his hotel with some strumpet (I wondered if he'd take Fleur to his suite, despite the fact that she was too tall for him, or if, perhaps, he'd get that new assistant of his to Apparate to his room) and I'd be back off to my flat so that I could apparate back here bright and early tomorrow to have the meeting I was supposed to be having today.

Which reminded me. I still had to ask Malfoy about Serena Geranium… Why was it that whenever we were together, I always ended up too busy reacting to his shenanigans to ask him what he knew about the mysterious employee that hunch told me was very much involved in what was going on at Ridgeback.

Must be some of that good old Malfoy Charm, I thought sarcastically.

I gave myself a final glance in the mirror, satisfying myself that I had returned myself to a tolerable state, and contemplated how I was going to get Malfoy alone so we could discuss my other assignment. He hadn't shown any inclination to leave the conversation at the table all night.

And that was another thing. If Salinger wasn't careful, Malfoy would take his date back to the Malfoy suite tonight. Not that Malfoy had been overly flirty with the girl, after all, he had given me his word that he wouldn't embarrass me tonight by hitting on everything with cleavage, but considering his track record in the beautiful women department, he had to have noticed. and I'd seen him looking.

With a sigh, I turned to go.

And found my nose buried into the buttons of an expensive silk shirt when I tried to walk through the door.

A scent tickled my nose, and I inhaled on instinct. Spice. Pepper, clove, hint of what might be sandalwood. A not-unpleasant manly smell. Malfoy.

I blushed hotly as I realized I was… sniffing him, but thankfully, he seemed not to notice my olfactory assessment.

"We need to talk." Came the all to serious voice of my irksome employer, as I planted my hands against his chest, and peeled my face off his buttons,

"Well, you might want to start with why you followed me into the ladies loo." Came my irritated reply.

"Ergh," he gave a damned fine impression of a game show buzzer "sorry Granger, that item's not on the table."

I sniffed, "I move to add it to the lists."

"Motion denied. Granger, what the hell was going on out there?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" he looked at me like I couldn't possibly be serious. "You can't possibly be serious. Don't play innocent with me Granger."

"Unlike some people, I have no need to play innocent."

He gave a derisive chuckle. "I told you already, I'm clean, I've always been clean, and the reason you never ferreted out anything on me was because there was nothing to ferret."

"Interesting choice of words."

"Oh, shut up. And anyway, you aren't going to drag me off the subject. You don't want to believe me, then don't. But the least you could do is respect me, and for fuck sake, play by your own goddamned rules!"

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"Want me to spell it out for you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "it's not like you to be so coy. Fine. No. Flirting. With. Other. People. Your fucking ground rule for tonight's little farce, and yet, what's the first thing you do? Cozy up to a man old enough to be your father, and spend the evening making eyes at him, and leaning over the table to flash your tits to him while you talk."

I felt like he'd just dumped a bucket of cold water over me. Or punched me in the stomach. It was like I'd had the wind knocked out of me, and I couldn't even draw a breath… and I couldn't remember when I'd been so offended. "Mr. Salinger was only interested in my conversation, and, unlike some people, is capable for appreciating a woman for her mind."

"Granger, I was there. Believe me, it wasn't your mind he was appreciating.."

"Bastard."

"Hey," he said, in a voice that exemplified stony anger "I call 'em like I see 'em."

"I'd make an appointment with an optician first thing when I got back if I were you."

Malfoy only had about four inches on me. Less even, since I was in heels tonight, so how he managed to loom over me quite so threateningly was beyond me. Maybe it had something to do with his aura. There was a whole magical field that dealt with them. Manipulating them, and interpreting them, and what not. I'd never been good at seeing them, but it was a fact that every living thing had one, and magical people and creatures had especially large and expressive auras.

Or maybe Malfoy had a touch of the megamorph magus power that his cousin had been gifted with.

Or Maybe he was just really, really, pissed off.

Either way, I found myself stifling an unconscious urge to shrink.

"There is nothing wrong with my eyes, and unless there is something wrong with the eyes of ever other person on the entire western hemisphere, then they'll get their chance to see you on the cover of tomorrow's Daily Prophet, showing your wares to dirty old men. And all while sitting next to me. Did you ever stop to think for one moment how that might effect me?"

And suddenly I was dumbstruck. All that lovely anger I'd been feeling dissappated for a moment, and I was overcome by… well, I suppose it was awe for Malfoy's self-centeredness. Of course all he cared about was that millions of people might be seeing him overlooked for a man twice his age. He was worried about his ego.

Okay, I suppose I should have expected it, but I couldn't help but be a bit disappointed in him.

I mean what about me? What about the fact that if I actually had been flirting with Salinger it would be considered not only unprofessional, but frankly, down right desperate.

Oh, wait a minute, there was that anger I thought I'd lost.

"You," I informed him, "are a complete wanker. I wasn't flirting with him, but even if I was, I can't quite figure out why you're angry, Mr. Sleeps-with-all-his-assistants. I thought you would encourage me to use assets other than my keen mind to get information out of him."

"That," he said, grabbing my by the shoulders, and giving me a little shake, "is them. .It isn't you. I never would have thought you capable…"

"But I'm not don't you see. And anyway, there weren't any pictures taken, so there's nothing to worry about." I shrugged his hands off my shoulders, and turned a second time to leave, "and now, if you're finished hurling accusations, I'd like to get back to dinner." And I walked out briskly, leaving him fuming behind me.

At least, I hoped he was fuming. He certainly deserved it.

Outside the bathroom, the scene had changed a bit since I went in. Sometime after leaving the table, the dance floor had filled with people, and I found myself weaving through a crowd of people to navigate my way back to the table.

I was somewhere entrenched in the mob, when my hand was gripped roughly from behind in a smoother, stronger one, and I felt myeslf whipped around, and before I knew it, neatly tucked into the arms of Draco Malfoy, and swaying gently to the music.

"Our conversation was most assuredly not over, Granger," he informed me, but the anger from moments before had gone from his voice.

"What are you doing?" I asked, and was more than a little annoyed that I couldn't keep the breathiness out of my voice.

Isn't it obvious, Granger? I'm dancing with my old friend, my star employee, and…" he leaned in, and gave me a roughish grin "my date."

"We were never friends, Malfoy."

"Tomayto, tomahto."

"and correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you just horribly pissed with me?"

"I may have been, yes, but then you were horribly pissed with me. And while that isn't exactly anything new, I do realize that it may be justified in this case. Perhaps I was… blinded by anger. Perhaps you really did think his attention was platonic, but let me assure you, whatever your intentions, Salinger was keenly interested in the contents of your…"

"Okay!" I cut him off. "That's quite enough, Malfoy."

His shrug seemed to say 'suit yourself.' But the look in his eye was all triumphant smirk.

"Smug bastard," I mumbled into his shoulder.

"Sorry bastard, actually." And what shocked me the most about the admission was the fact that it wasn't hard for him to say. "I really had no right to question your professionality."

"Perhaps not, but having no right has never stopped you before."

"Ouch, Granger." He said, with a theatrical wince. " remember, I'm trying to be nice here."

"sorry," I said, in my most unapologetic voice.

"No," he grinned, "you aren't." and then the music changed to something more like a tango, and I'd never been any good at that sort of thing, but Malfoy was an excellent lead, and I just followed him through the twists and turns, and we managed to come out right… well, except for one thing…

"Malfoy… um… can you put me down?"

As the tango had drawn to a close, he'd bowed my body over into a very deep dip. And now I was held, suspended over the floor by him. I was struck by how vulnerable the position left me, my body almost completely supported by the arm around my waist, leaving Malfoy with the power. He could pull me back up in an instant, the move would pull me into his chest, and doubtless, that was the idea, or he could drop me right there.

For a long time he did neither.

"Um… Malfoy… people are starting to stare."

"Let them," it came out in a husky whisper, as he leaned over. There was one terrifying moment when I thought that he might kiss me. But he just moved his mouth next to my ear, and it occurred to me that the move had been for show. Certainly, to anyone watching, it must have looked like he had kissed me.

"Friends again?" he asked, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I told you, we weren't friends before."

"hmm… so we weren't," and then he pulled me up, and set me on my feet at arms length. "well, non-hostile acquaintances, then?"

"Well, I don't know about 'non-ho…"

I trailed off, as he fixed me with the raised eyebrow look of skepticism.

"Fine." I relented, and couldn't really keep from grinning.

"Good, now, let's get back to our table,"

"I couldn't agree more," and with that, I turned, and took off in the direction I'd been headed when Malfoy'd pulled me aside.

And once again, he grabbed me and whirled me to face him. "not so fast," he mumbled, and ruffled my hair, foe a moment, I wasn't really sure what he was doing, his hands were traveling familiarly over me, pulling the fabric of my dress strategically, then turning me around to untie, and retie the knot at the back of my neck, and I could tell it was re-done quite sloppily. It wasn't until he turned me back around to survey me, and I noticed he was in a similar state of disarray, that I realized what he was about.

"Malfoy, Salinger will thing we…"

"Good!" was his reply, and it stifled any protest I might have about the thing. Finally satisfied, he gave a nod, "alright, let's go."

And this time it was my turn to stop him.

"What is it, Granger?" he asked, as I placed my hands on him as he walked by me.

"I have questions, regarding Ridgeback… I keep forgetting to ask you, but it's rather important, I think."

"Can it wait?"

I frowned, " I suppose, but I already feel as though I've let this go on forever. I'd like to discuss it tonight, maybe after dinner. There has to be an all night coffee shop we can talk in before I apparate back to…"

"Wait, wait, wait. Granger, you aren't apparating anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'you aren't apparating anywhere.'"

"And why, pray tell, is that?"

"Because, Miss Granger, you've already done a blind distance apparation once today, and you're a smart enough witch to know that it takes a lot out of you. Plus you've been drinking. If the champagne doesn't get you splinched for your troubles tonight, then the exhaustion is likely to get you tomorrow, either in the morning when you come back to Paris, or in the evening, when you go back home. It's ridiculous for you to go back home tonight, when I have already booked you a room in my hotel, and you can simply send out some suitable clothes tomorrow. On me, even, since you chose not to accept the dress I chose for you."

Malfoy, it would seem, was a lot more… logical than I'd expected. What he'd said wasn't untrue. I doubted that I would splinch myself, but Idid have to admit that the more I apparated back and forth, the higher my chances of it were.

But his hotel?

I agreed, rather reluctantly.

His response was to smile at me like I was an obedient child, and give me a 'listen to Daddy' pat on the head that made me want to snap his hand off at the wrist.

"We should be getting back."

"Yes," he seemed reluctant, "I suppose so."

I was struck by the thought that it hadn't been Fleur or that new assistant at all, but me that he'd decided to take back to his hotel. More than a little amusing to me, and I couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" he asked, as he led me back to the table.

What could I possibly say in return except for 'nothing.'

And then we were back, and Salinger gave us a quick once over glance, taking in our arrival together, our sloppy states of dress, and my blush (which he no doubt misinterpreted,) and Gave Malfoy a tight lipped smile.

"Now," said Malfoy, as we took our seats, "Down to business…"

The rest of the conversation went well, and was very useful, with Malfoy steering it expertly back to some aspect of the business, and I observing, and making mental notes of Salinger's speech patterns, and how he fidgeted, and the dilation of his pupils, and deduced that , while he was not lying about the success of his business on the whole, there weren't as many good future projects in R&D, and he was most likely counting on Malfoy's money to allow for the funding of such projects.

None of these were things that, in my opinion, should effect Malfoy's decision to purchase the company, and I told him so, on a carriage ride to our hotel.

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Whew, it's over… not a particularly long chapter, and I suppose I could have gone blow by blow on the following conversation with Salinger, but I'm not exactly a business major, so I have a feeling I'd have trouble making the dialog sound interesting… oh well.

Sorry this was so long in coming, and to everyone who read this chapter on the 2nd, and then waited for the midnight update, sorry this is even later… see, I tried to take a nap after work, and ended up sleeping through… oh well.

The following tidbit is a teaser for chapter 22, which should be posted in about three weeks, (or as soon as school and work lets me.)

XxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxxXxxx

I groaned, and buried my face into my pillow.

Nope, that didn't work.

I tried pulling the coverlet up over my head, and stuffing the pillow over my ears…

That was a bust as well.

With an exasperated sigh, I sat up in bed. There really was nothing for it, I thought, and gritted my teeth. And then I thought 'God damn him, he knew I was supposed to get up early tomorrow,' but how was anyone supposed to sleep with the enthusiastic moans drifting through the walls. French moans, I realized, as I pressed my ear to the wall.

Fleur maybe? Or maybe just some random hussy he'd picked up in the hotel bar. I wondered briefly when he'd found the time, after our conversation. But then again, I supposed Malfoy made it a point to find the time.

Well, whatever his habits, there was no way I was letting him keep me up!

With a huff, I was out of bed, and pounding on the connecting door.

"Cast a silencing charm, at least, you inconsiderate, fu- oh, fuck!"

I was cut short, as he ripped the door open. I was unfortunately leaning on it at the time, and so I came spilling into his room, landing in a heap on the floor.

"Ow," I managed, but I didn't move to pick myself back up just yet.

"Granger, are you alright?"

With the door open, the noise was much louder, and I wondered about that for a moment, until I saw the flickering light from the television set.

"Oh!" was all I could say. I had to wonder what the odds were that I'd walk in on two different men, neither of whom I was dating, watching porn in a week.

"Um… You know there's a volume adjust setting on that thing." I couldn't believe I'd just said that, especially since all I realy wanted to do was sink into the floor. And I thought it was embarrassing when it was just Harry…

(there you go, just a little snippet. The chapter isn't quite done yet, but I wouldn't put in the juciest bit anyway… gotta save something for the release… it's like a trailer in that respect, I suppose. Hope it has you guys interested.)