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1589 Words
He regarded me before he came close. “Or you can excuse yourself for the evening if you prefer.”
“I’m fine. Just a bit nervous.”
“Why?” He slipped his hands into his pockets.
“When you talk about dying, it always makes me uncomfortable.”
“I’m not arrogant enough to assume that will never happen. It probably won’t happen, but it may.” He studied me. “Unless this isn’t what you want. Because it’s okay if it’s not.”
“No, it is. I just can’t imagine running business as usual, knowing you’re gone.”
A gentle smile moved on to his lips. “Let’s not worry about the future when we can enjoy the present.” He stepped to the side so I could pass, lifting his arm for me to move ahead. “Come on.”
We made our way to the dining room, the back wall a solid window that showed the garden outside, blue hydrangeas and white flowers with beautiful greenery. Drops were on the large leaves from the drip line.
The man was already there, standing at the window and admiring the garden. Dressed in all black—black jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves pushed to his elbows—he stood with his muscular back to us. His shoulders were wide and bulky too. He had short dirty-blond hair, and even from the rear, his sharp jawline was prominent. When he heard us, he turned to greet us.
I halted on the spot as my father continued forward. Everything seemed to stop—time, my heartbeat, everything.
“Axel.” My father extended his hand to shake his. “Wonderful to have you for dinner.”
Axel was slightly taller than my father, who was already tall, and I’d inherited that height myself. But he was far more muscular, his arms stretching the fabric of his sleeves with the bulkiness. He had a strong posture, and his hard gaze softened once he greeted my father. His crystal-blue eyes were confident. A handsome smile moved over his face as he shook my father’s hand. “Thank you for the invitation.” The baritone of his voice was so distinctive, like an echo at the bottom of a well.
I was supposed to emulate my father’s confidence, but it left me as I stared at this man. Handsome men came and went, but Axel was in a different stratosphere. He looked like he belonged in Milan, modeling clothes and underwear for the major brands in the big window shops. He was too beautiful for a life of crime.
Axel’s eyes shifted to me, and that smile melted away instantly. His stare was hard and focused, as if he knew me from somewhere but couldn’t place me. He was one of those people who didn’t shy away from eye contact, and even though it was probably obvious how uncomfortable I was, he maintained the stare.
My father looked at me, expecting me to move forward.
I swallowed and feigned confidence I didn’t feel. “Nice to meet you, Axel.” I extended my hand to take his. “I’m Scarlett.”
He took mine and squeezed with his big fingers, the cords popping up his forearms as he gripped me. After a shake, he released me. “Beautiful name.” Even though my father stood right there, Axel’s eyes were stuck on mine like glue.
I had to break the eye contact and step away. Heat flushed through my body, and then I started to sweat despite the evening chill that now pressed against the window.
My father pulled out my chair for me so I could sit beside him.
I dropped into the chair and placed the linen across my lap, needing to do something to distract myself from the gorgeous man who moved to the other side of the table. He took the seat across from my father so he wasn’t directly across from me, but I wasn’t spared from his intense stare.
The butler served the wine and placed a basket of fresh bread on the table. Neither man reached for it, and they immediately launched into business.
It was clear Axel wasn’t refined the way my father was. His posture was more relaxed, giving off I-don’t-give-a-f**k vibes. He didn’t touch the wine either, like he preferred something stronger.
“May I ask how you pulled off these relationships?” My father swirled his wine and took a drink.
“Through generations,” Axel said. “My family was well-connected to the Medici family, and we’ve remained connected to everyone who matters ever since. Snooty aristocracy is heavy in my blood.”
“Then why are you in this game?”
Axel sat with one elbow on the table, his fingers scratching his jawline as he considered what to say. “It’s a long story…but my family cut me off a long time ago. I forged a new path, and I chose a career that would piss them off the most.” He grinned. “It’s been fun.”
Definite I-don’t-give-a-f**k vibes.
“My family classifies me as the black sheep, but they refuse to admit how corrupt everyone and everything is. It’s my job to show them.”
My father gave a nod before he delved into the nitty-gritty of their business relationship, all the specifics of production and shipping. Dinner was served, starting with a salad, moving on to a soup, and then the main course, which was a steak with greens and potatoes. They got into the thick of it, going back and forth as they constructed the terms and conditions of this operation.
My eyes were down most of the time, but I listened to every word. Whenever I lifted my gaze to look at the man across the table, I felt the heat flush through me again. Whenever that happened, his gaze shifted to me…like he knew.
My eyes darted away as quickly as possible, trying to hide my stare.
The wine was exchanged for scotch, and then the cigars emerged. I excused myself from both vices and stuck to my wine and the cheese board that was brought out for dessert, which both men ignored.
One of my father’s men entered the room then spoke quietly into his ear.
My father set the cigar in his dish before he rose to his feet. “Excuse me.” Before he left the table, he pushed in the chair, and he rounded the corner with the man who had retrieved him.
Now it was just the two of us…and I’d never been so uncomfortable. I wasn’t shy or timid in any regard and I could hold my own in any conversation, but the second this man walked into the room, I turned into mush.
He sat back in his chair and stared at me.
I drank my wine as I stared back.
He released the smoke from his mouth before he set the lit cigar aside. “Is this serious, or are you just his favorite w***e?”
I almost choked on my wine when I heard what he said. “Excuse me?”
A grin moved on to his lips. “You heard me.”
“I’m not a whore.”
“You’re telling me you enjoy f*****g a man twice your age?” He c****d his head slightly. “When a younger, cockier, and more handsome man could make you come? I’d even pay you—if you want.”
The ick of what he said made me cringe. “First of all…fuck you. And secondly, I’m his daughter.”
The grin he wore immediately disappeared from his face.
“And still not a whore.”
His fingers brushed over his jawline as the smirk slowly returned. “My mistake…”
I reached for my wine again and took a sip, letting the silence wash away the tension.
He spoke again. “My offer is still on the table.”
“My father could walk back in the room any second—”
“You think I care?” he said. “I’m sure he’s aware how much men want to f**k you.”
“All I have to do is tell my father everything that’s been said, and your little deal will be off.”
He shrugged. “Then tell him.”
“If I do, he’ll probably kill you.”
He grinned. “He’s welcome to try.”
“Wow, you’re arrogant. And reckless.”
“I try.” He winked before he grabbed the scotch and took a drink. “Have dinner with me.”
“I don’t mix business with pleasure.” It was a lesson my father had taught me. Separation of church and state. Sleeping with someone you worked with was always a bad idea. It would bite you in the ass at some point.
“I’m doing business with your father, not you.”
“And who do you think you’ll be doing business with once he’s gone?”
He regarded me with a hard stare, a glimmer of a smile on his lips. “You’re his successor. That’s sexy.”
I covered the flush in my cheeks with another drink.
“Come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I don’t need money.”
“I’ll make it worth your while in other ways…” His blue eyes were so confident, so cocky, and so beautiful.
- Writer
