Blackstone Inc. (Book 1)

Part 7

The lunch went fine from what I could gather. I did notice at one point Dom got kind of tense beside me in the booth while talking to Mr. Prescott, but his tone of voice never changed and he even had a smile for a small part of the conversation.

I took notes as best as I could. From what I could gather they were talking about stocks in the company. There were lots of numbers that I had written down and every once in a while Dom would look down at my note pad and smile encouragingly so I continued doing what I was doing.

Of course, the two men had steaks while I had a salad.

“Is that all you’re going to have,” Dom whispered to me.

And to be honest, the grilled chicken had looked amazing, but that price had my credit card crying.

“Yes, it’s delicious and very filling.”

He raised his eyebrows at me but continued his conversation with Mr. Prescott.

After we all finished and the bill came, they had a friendly argument over who would pay until I pulled out my wallet and took out my credit card.

“Genevieve, what do you think you’re doing?” Dom looked down at me curiously.

“I’m paying for my salad,” I said more as a question than a statement.

Had he really thought that I couldn’t pay for my own, overpriced if you asked me, meal?

“Put your card away. While you’re with me I will always pay for you. I am your boss and it’s your job to come with me.”

I had the money. I didn’t want him to think that just because he required me to be here that I’d assume he’d take care of my side of things.

“But sir, really, I can--”

“Gwenivere, is it? If the man wants to pay for you, you should probably let him. Do you know how much this man is worth? He could buy the restaurant if he wanted. A little $14 salad is not going to hurt his pocketbook,” the man said with a chuckle.

“Genevieve," he stated to the man, "and thank you, Dennis. My point exactly,” Dom agreed.

I glanced between the two of them for a moment and then put my card away with a sigh.

“And with that being said,” Dom grabbed the bill folder from the waiter and placed two hundred dollar bills and a 20 inside and handed it back to the waiter, “I’m paying. Keep the change, by the way.”

The waiter graciously thanked him and walked away.

We all stood up and walked towards the exit.

“Have a wonderful day, Mr. Blackstone,” the hostess tried to get his attention, but he had engrossed himself in the conversation he was having with Mr. Prescott.

“You too,” he said, without even looking at her. He placed his hand on my lower back again as he had done when we left the office and ushered me out of the restaurant. It felt nice that it was an absentminded thing.

The valet, Andrew, quickly came up to us and handed both Mr. Prescott and Dom their keys.

Dennis handed him a 20 dollar bill and said, “Buy yourself something nice, kid.”

He said goodbye to us, got into his car, and drove off.

Dom handed Andrew two 20 dollar bills and told him to have a nice day.

Andrews’ face looked like a kid on Christmas and he exclaimed, “Thank you, sir!”

Now I knew why they were on a first name basis. Dominic tipped really well for everything.

He opened the passenger door for me and held out his hand to help me get inside.

I muttered a ‘thank you, sir’ and tried to gracefully get in, again, without showing my panties.

I thought I had succeeded, but when I looked up I saw a dark look in Dominic’s eyes but then he shifted his gaze from between my legs and coughed into his fist.

The poor valet was flushed, still looking over at us, but when he saw me look at him he quickly turned away.

I blushed ferociously while pulling down my skirt, ready to give the biggest apology when Dominic got in the driver’s seat, but as I went to open my mouth he held his hand up in the space between us; the international sign for ‘stop’ and so I sat back and buckled my seat belt.

Was he going to fire me because I accidentally flashed him? I hadn’t meant to.

So I tried again, “Dom--”

He held up his hand again as we sped through the city. His face was in a hard scowl. I wondered what he was thinking. Probably that I had meant to do that. Probably that I was a slut or something.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ll wear longer skirts,” I whispered as fast as I could. I kept my eyes on his.

His face relaxed and softened as he turned to me, “That would probably be for the best, Genevieve.”

I fidgeted my thumbs and whispered, “Can we just... forget about it?”

His free hand squeezed my knee and he looked me in the eyes, “Of course, Genevieve. No harm was done.”

To say that I was embarrassed was an understatement. I was horrified and to make matters worse we didn’t talk for the rest of the car ride.

I know this morning I had flashed him my bra, but him seeing a little bit of cleavage is way different than him seeing my barely clothed core.

When we got back to the office he told me to go through my notes and type them up for him and give them to him by the end of the day.

I looked at my watch and saw that it was 4:30.

I walked over to his desk and set the paper down, “Dominic, I was wondering if it would be ok if I left. I know I am usually supposed to wait for you, but I am suddenly not feeling so well.”

“That’s fine,” he replied without even looking up at me.

“Alright, well good night, sir.”

And without another word, I turned and walked out.