Page 16 of Ruthless Financier
No one blinked at a couple in wedding clothes as we headed out to my limo. The driver already knew our destination and we arrived in a matter of minutes.
As we stepped out of the limo and onto the street, more photographers took our picture. We smiled for them and headed inside to the elevators. Soon we’d be done with photos for the press and we could be alone, but for now everyone needed to know she was my wife.
She laughed as she read the name of the restaurant, “The Top of the World?”
I winked, “Well, it’s a name that matches the theme of my life.”
We rode the elevator up to the top floor and walked into the restaurant. It slowly spun around, so we had a 365-degree view of Las Vegas and the desert. A hostess escorted us to my private dining room. Indigo didn’t break her stride as people snapped our wedding picture until we made it to the room.
With a wink, she patted my cheek as she said, “That comment you made downstairs—there’s the Mr. Ruthless I’d read about, the one my PR firm intended to help.”
My privilege was a fact of life. But I’d known life without any of the perks I now possessed. We were seated at our table and the doors closed, leaving us alone. She picked up her menu like she was ready to dine, but I asked her, “Wait, who calls me Mr. Ruthless?”
She put the menu down and said, “It’s the moniker we gave your files when I was writing out a PR proposal for you.”
The waitress came with our champagne. I ordered the prime porterhouse steak and she chose the crab-stuffed chicken dish. The waitress left and I met Indigo’s blue eyes, that were almost gray now.
I said, “It was a good proposal, but mine was a better option.”
“You convinced me.” She sniffed the air and picked up her champagne flute as she said, “And here we are.”
I clicked glasses with her and we sipped. After we finished, the fire inside my blood that was usually reserved for winning my personal war, or for the bed, was already burning. I ignored it and instead gave her my smile that usually won people over to my side.
“Tell you what,” I said. “You’re welcome to work for my organization directly, but if you want to start your own company, I’ll be your first client.”
She raised her eyebrow and said, “But I stay independent, and president of Steel PR?”
I laughed and nodded as I asked, “Is that the name of your company?”
“Yes.” She sipped her champagne. “I honor my family, always.”
Our food was delivered and I held my tongue and libido in check. Once the waitress left, I wanted to probe more. I hardly knew anything about her. Sure, our marriage was temporary, but I always found if I asked people the right questions, I understood them better. So I cut my food and said, “You sounded like you had issues with your parents, yet you proudly display your family name of strength?”
We both ate a few bites. Then she put her silverware down and said, “My father was a good man. Part of me blames his death for my mother’s passing—which is silly. She was the weak one and I’d been so annoyed with her as a teen. I was the son my father never had, in many ways.”
I asked her, “So you were a tomboy?”
“No.” We ate some more and then she stopped and said, “My oldest sister, Georgiana, Georgie for short, she was the one who often cooked, cleaned and took care of everyone in the family.”
I refilled the champagne as I said, “So she was the mom.”
She snorted and said, “Yes. She recently got married at the Venetian to Michael Irons, the baseball player and the father of my nephew. And she seems unusually happy.”
My mind raced to this morning’s work and my highlighted notes as I said, “Wait. The Tulsa Sooners?”
She tilted her head and asked said, “Yes. Do you like baseball?”
We finished our plates and I decided to be forthright as I said, “I recently bought the company that owned them. It hasn’t hit the news yet.”
Her face white, she asked, “You bought Sun and Moon Trust?”
I glanced at the door and said, “Yes, but that’s classified information.”
I could see the sun setting behind her as she asked, “What are your plans for the team?”
I held my finger up as the staff came in. No one needed to hear this. We ordered warm butter cake that came with vanilla bean ice cream and fresh berries. Once the door closed and we were alone again, I confided, “I haven’t thought about it yet. It wasn’t my goal when I acquired the company.”
She sucked in her bottom lip and then said, “Why did you target the company then?”
