Page 32 of Roberto

“You could have asked,” she said with a fake smile. “Instead of assuming.”

I was beginning to grow irritated. It had been a simple misunderstanding and not entirely out of place given the kind of establishment we were in.

“Alright, let me ask youthis,”I said. “You seem to have taken offense that I assumed you work here. But what’s so wrong with that? You own the club; surely you value your employees and their work. What’s so wrong with someone mistaking you for an employee?”

“I assume from your expensive suit and Rolex that you’re very successful in finance, Mr. Rosolini,” she said. “Am I correct?”

It felt like she was laying a trap for me. I tried to evade it. “I liketo dress this way, so I do.”

“But youarevery successful at your profession, are you not?”

The trap loomed closer. I could sense it coming.

“More or less,” I answered.

“How would you like it if a visitor mistook you for an entry-level accountant?”

“It wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.”

She laughed, but not pleasantly. “Given the status and wealth you project, I find that hard to believe.”

I clenched my jaw as I smiled. “It’s a family business, so it’s not like I’m the CFO of a major corporation. If I were mistaken for one of my veryfewemployees, all of whom are excellent at what they do – as I said, it wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Let me change the question, then. How would you feel if someone asked you to fetch them coffee? Or do some other menial job?”

“So you consider your employees’ work to be menial?” I shot back.

“No…”

Fire flashed in her eyes as she stared me down.

“…but I’m the owner. And since my employees’ work is sexual in nature, I don’t like to be propositioned for whatever it is you think you canbuyme for, Mr. Rosolini.”

At that moment, she would have been overwhelmingly alluring if she wasn’t so goddamn high-and-mighty.

“I wasn’t – ” I began, but she abruptly stood up from the booth.

“Since this is my club, and since you didn’t actually pay for my drink, I think our time is at an end.” She smiled oh-so-sweetly and oh-so-fakely. “You’re welcome to ask any of myemployeeswhat they’re willing to do, but I would advise you to ASK… rather than assuming you already know. Good evening, Mr. Rosolini.”

And with that, she turned and walked away.

I sat there, my mouth open, not sure whether I was furious or aroused. Or both.

Over by the bar, Han was nearly doubled over with laughter.

I got out of the booth and walked towards him. I glanced in the direction Mei-ling had gone, but she’d disappeared into the shadows.

“What’s so funny?” I snapped when I reached Han.

“YOU,” he laughed. “Your expression – it waspriceless.”

I felt my face flush hot with both embarrassment and anger.

“Yeah, well… I guess Ididget my ass handed to me,” I muttered.

Han slapped me on the shoulder in a way that reminded me of Adriano or Massimo. “Ahhh, don’t take it too hard. You’re not the first to get ripped a new one by Chan Mei-ling.”

I frowned. “So you know her?”

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