Page 55 of Playboy Boss

“My pleasure. I’ll come back to take your orders.” She walked away to tend to other patrons.

“Well…” Dallas pointed to the location on the map. It was perfectly tucked away in the heart of the Montrose neighborhoods. “Moreau is getting out of the hotel business.”

“No shit!” Konrad was stunned. “How do you know this?”

Dallas closed the laptop with emphasis. “I talked to Moreau myself.”

“How in bloody hell did you snag an appointment with Jacob?”

A crooked smile emerged from his lips. “I didn’t. I ran into him yesterday while I was in Dallas last night checking on the Dallas Halman location. He just happened to be in the bar having a drink after dinner.”

“So, you just shot the shit with the lad? Like no big deal?” If Konrad had a man crush, it was for Jacob Moreau, mogul extraordinaire. The man made more money in a day than Konrad made in a year. Konrad’s eight figures a year was mere pocket change to Jacob Moreau.

“It was casual as fuck, but we got to talking, and he’s decided to sell his hotel and concentrate on pharma and technology.”

“My God, the man has his hands in everything.”

“He does. And now we’ve got Le Petite Moreau, if we want it.”

Konrad shook his head in disbelief. “It can’t be this easy.”

Dallas lifted his glass, and Konrad followed suit. “But it is.”

“Well, cheers to that.”

They clinked glasses and took long, drawn-out sips of the Bloody Marys, which were perfectly spiced.

Konrad placed his glass on the counter. “When can I meet him?” He’d not ever formally met Jacob.

“I told him I’d give him a call on Monday.” Dallas took the menu in his hands, reading over it. Konrad already knew what he wanted.

“This is absolutely amazing. I didn’t expect to get this news.” No. In fact, he’d expected to tell Dallas about his news with Scottie.

“I knew you’d like it.” Dallas settled on his stool, the menu back on the bar again. “And the way you walked in here, it looked like you needed some good news.”

Dallas was too perceptive for his own good—Konrad’s good. Did wanting a woman make a man predictable, make him wear his emotions on his sleeve—or face, as was his case—for everyone to see?

“It happened again. Last night…” Konrad trailed off, his gaze on his friend, who followed him closely without more detail.

“Ty said you didn’t show up again last night at H Bar.”

“We worked late on a presentation. I had intended to meet the blokes afterward, but that didn’t work out.”

Dallas took a sip. “I think you’re getting caught up with this girl.”

Konrad dropped his gaze to his naked wrist. He really missed his watch. “I am.”

“Do you want a relationship with her?” Dallas chuckled. “God, I never thought I’d ask you that question.”

“I never thought I’d have a different answer to that question than ‘no fucking way.’” Konrad raked his fingers through his hair. “But now I only know the answer isn’t no. It’s maybe. Bloody hell … no, it’s not maybe. It’s yes. I do. I do want something with her. But I don’t know what or how.”

“Fuck, Kon.” Dallas didn’t say any more until Bea came back to take their orders.

When she was gone again, Konrad said, “Fucking Fabian and his pussy-whipped ass.”

Yes, Konrad still blamed Fabian for falling in love, making it appealing.

“It can’t be easy.”

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