Page 7 of Counterfeit Connection

Griffin

My mind is hardly on the task at hand. I’m finding myself just a bit distracted, looking over my shoulder, searching for our server, Kaitlyn. There was a spark in her eyes. I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m intrigued.

“Don’t you agree, Griffin?” Tobias says, pulling me from my thoughts and back into the here and now.

“Hmm?” I ask him. “Oh.” I clear my throat then tap my fingers on the table. “Absolutely, yes. I agree.”

“I don’t know, gentlemen,” Oliver Jameson starts. “I’d hate to see a piece of property that has been in my family for three decades turned into an outlet mall, or whatever it is you’re planning to do.”

My father has been eyeing a large stretch of property in upstate New York for years. He wants to buy it, sell it off in pieces… tripling any profit he makes on the deal. The biggest hang up. Oliver Jameson.

“I assure you, Oliver. It won’t end up as an outlet mall. That’s not an endeavor we’d entertain.”

“Forgive me if I don’t trust your word,” Oliver says gruffly.

I can audibly hear the depth of breath from Tobias, whose stature has straightened. He knows one of the buttons you don’t press where I’m concerned is challenging my integrity. I may have the title playboy in some circles, but it will never be something that will allow that hole in my armor.

“No. I don’t think I would forgive you if you didn’t trust my word. My record should and will speak for itself. Do we want your property? Absolutely. However, Mr. Jameson, I will not obtain it at any cost. I know from reviewing this deal from all sides, you need us infinitely more. The market isn’t as it once was. This cash infusion of capital from the sale would see a couple generations of your family keep your business running. Would it not?”

I can see his lips purse as my words sink in, but we’re interrupted by Kaitlyn with a tray of water in very nice, thick crystal glasses and a bottle of wine in tow.

“Here we are, gentlemen.” She carefully places each glass in front of us with delicate precision.

“Thank you, dear,” Oliver tells her, seemingly relieved that, for the moment, he doesn’t have to respond to my question. No man wants to admit they are in financial struggles and are in the very depths of depending on another to stay above water.

“It’s my pleasure.”

I angle my body slightly toward her and meet her eyes again. “Hello again, Kaitlyn.”

She looks down at me, acknowledging she heard me, but offering little else than a polite nod. “This red should pair with most everything on the menu. Are you ready to order now or should I give you more time?”

I dive in before anyone else can offer their opinions. “The gentleman here,” I motion with my head to Tobias, whose confused gaze I can feel boring a hole into the side of my head, “he’d indicated to me on the flight over that you have a four-course event the chef plans for each weekend. Since the conversation here could take a while, I think we’d be happy with that selection.”

She wrinkles her nose just a bit before placing her hand on her hip. “I rarely see anyone ordering for the entire table anymore. Aren’t you concerned about potential allergies or preferences these other men may have?”

She stares straight back at me with an intensity that tells me exactly where she’d like me to shove that four-course selection.

“As I’ve known Tobias here most of my life, and this restaurant was their suggestion,” I point to Oliver and his partner, who has barely spoken this entire meeting, “I think they’ll be all right.”

“Is that true?” she tries to confirm.

“Isn’t the customer always right?” I ask.

Kaitlyn gives me a smile that has my favorite curse word, along with either the word off or you, close behind. “Absolutely. Just to confirm, everyone’s good and doesn’t need any alternatives?”

I hear a stifled chuckle from my right.Prick.“I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” Tobias gleefully responds. Less cheerful acknowledgements come from our other tablemates before Kaitlyn takes her leave.

Tobias leans in. “Mate, she’s got your number.”

I lean in as well. “You think I didn’t notice?”

The conversation stays on business all throughout our meal. Kaitlyn comes and goes occasionally, making sure we have everything we need. I have to admit though, my attention is being split between the chatter at hand while watching her out of the corner of my eye. She smiles at each customer sheencounters, making sure that everything is to their liking. It’s abundantly clear she is beloved in this establishment.

Kaitlyn crosses paths with the host, who seats an older man in a corner booth with a younger woman across from him. He’s wearing a scowl on his face similar to the one I tend to feel on mine. I don’t have to hear his voice or words to know he was rude the moment Kaitlyn walked up to greet them.

“Tobias, Griffin, if you don’t mind,” Oliver says. “Mitch and I are going to step outside for a bit of air and a private conversation. You’ve given us a lot to consider.”

I hear their statement, but seemingly don’t care. The only thing I can focus on is the scene in front of me. I finally snap out of it when Tobias cracks me on the side of my knee with the back of his hand. “Are you trying to blow this? Get your head out of where I know it is and back to the matter at hand.”

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