Page 9 of Daddy's Game

He chuckled softly, his eyes burning with desire as he checked out my legs.

“Always. Though in this case I happen to own the restaurant and can speak with conviction of its quality.”

I didn’t want to be impressed, but in the face of all that opulence it was hard. He owned the restaurant?

Of course he did. I realized this would be a lot harder than I thought.

4

BROCK

Ispent the ride to the restaurant mesmerized by Grace’s transformation. She’d already had me in her thrall as it was, but seeing her dressed to thrill had only served to reinforce those feelings.

For her part, Grace spent the ride trying to pretend like she wasn’t feeling the undeniable pull of magnetism between us. I’d been out on the town with beautiful women before, some of them world famous and nearly as wealthy as I.

Yet, I’d never felt drawn to any of them in the way I did with Grace. I couldn't put my finger on what it was that I found so compelling about her. I’m not a man given to enigma, yet the mystery was part of the fun.

Antonio’swas a struggling pasta house when I took it over about ten years ago. I turned a third rate spaghetti factory wannabe into one of New York’s premiere dining destinations. One of my main upgrades had been modernizing the look. Instead of the cliche checkered tablecloths and dim lighting, Antonio’s now had a sleek, modern industrial feel. A cluster of fairy lights wound in a spiral pattern in the entrance foyer gave diners a clue what lay inside.

I offered my hand to Grace as she exited the limo. She gave me a dubious look, but took the hand anyway. She quickly reclaimed her hand as soon as she stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant.

We walked side by side into the interior. I held the door for her, then followed her inside. The hostess recognized me on sight.

“Mr. Richards, we have your usual table ready for you and your guest.”

“Excellent.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter if you’re an hour late for your reservation if you own the joint,” Grace quipped as we moved into the restaurant lobby, trailing the hostess. She led us up a flight of carpeted steps to a balcony area overlooking the main floor.

A curving glass pane a dozen feet long showed the cityscape outside as I pulled her chair out for her. Grace settled in, seeming to have relaxed a bit.

“Thank you,” she said as she settled into her seat. I went to my own chair and sat down, barely taking my eyes off of her.

I waited until after we’d finished the second course, and two glasses of wine each, before I broached the subject of the center.

“So,” I said, setting my wine glass down. The thin layer of purple fluid at the bottom of the crystal bulb sloshed silently as it settled. “What would it take to convince you to sell?”

Her blue eyes held no surprise as she matched my gaze spark for spark.

“Nothing,” she said. “Our location is right where it needs to be to serve the community. You’re not the first rich guy to come along and make me an offer, you know.”

“Oh, I know. Your stubbornness is legendary.”

“Stubbornness?” Her brows climbed high on her pretty face. “If I were a man, you’d call it conviction.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and then closed it when I realized she was right.

“Very well,” I said, conceding the point. “Your conviction, then. I could continue to raise my offering price, but to be honest, there is a limit to how much I can get back on my investment, even in the long term.”

“It doesn't matter how much money you offer me,” Grace said firmly. Her ruby red lips twisted into a wry grin. “If I were in this for the money, I would have gone into the private sector instead of not for profit.”

She gave me a smirk. “I guess a man like you can’t comprehend what it is to not be motivated by money.”

“I think perhaps you’re making some assumptions about me that are not true.” I steepled my hands in front of me. “I’m not in love with money, nor do I fetishize the accumulation of it. I like the things money can do for me, and for the world at large.”

“Oh, is this the part where you brag about your charitable donations to ‘prove’ you’re not just another greedy captain of industry?”

I smiled at her challenging tone.

---