Page 21 of The Billionaire Player

“Thanks for meeting me. Come on in,” I said.

“Are we the only ones here?” she asked as she stepped inside.

“It’s the only way currently to actually get my undivided attention. Is that a problem? If you want, we can go to a bar, get a cup of coffee. Someplace more public if you prefer?”

“Are you saying I should be worried about being alone with you?”

“You’re perfectly safe with me. I wish to discuss a business opportunity for both of us, but I want you to feel comfortable and will go wherever you want.”

“Here’s fine. Thank you for the offer.”

“Shall we sit at the bar?”

I was suddenly nervous about what I was going to suggest. What if she didn’t go for it? What if she thought I was crazy? What if she didn’t think it was a good idea and then went and told her boss and wrote a story about that? I didn’t see her doing those things, but I didn’t know her well, it was just the impression I got, and I hoped that I wasn’t wrong.

“Sure,” she said and followed me over.

I went behind the bar and pulled out two glasses. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Jack Daniel Bennett, the bartender? That’s a side of you I never thought I would see,” she said as she sat down across from me.

“I was a bartender in Florence for about six months before I started school. It was a great way to learn how a bar works and to get fluent in Italian,” I said.

“Did you like it?”

I couldn’t tell if she was asking as a reporter or because she was simply curious about me. I wanted to think it was the latter, even though I knew I shouldn’t.

“It was fun, hard work, and nerve racking at times. I think some of the locals came and would ask for the most difficult or random drinks just to see if they could get me to quit.”

“Did they know who you were?”

I laughed, “No, not in the least. That was one of the best things about being in Italy. No one knew my family or if they did, they didn’t care.”

“Was that freeing or hard to adjust to?”

It was a good question and very inquisitive of her. It made me see that she was as good at her job as I thought she would be and I needed to be on my toes when I was around her.

“A bit of both, and I’ll get to that in a minute. You didn’t answer my question,”

“I’m a reporter, my job is to ask questions, not answer them,” she countered.

“It’s going to be like that, is it? I can just assume your answers for you, if that will make it easier,” I teased.

“I wouldn’t do that if you want to keep all your teeth,” she said with a smile.

“Then what can I make you?”

“Since you were an Italian bartender, why don’t you make me a classic Italian drink.”

I thought about it for a second and then asked her. “Do you like gin?”

“It’s not my favorite, but I’m willing to try anything once,” she said.

I reached behind the bar and got out bottles of Campari, gin and sweet red vermouth, mixing equal parts into the mixer before pouring it over ice in two glasses. Alexandria watched me as I moved my hands around the bottles. I resisted the urge to spin the bottles as I had done in the past. While I wanted to impress her, I could see her thinking I was just showing off.

“Have you ever had a Negroni?” I asked as I put an orange garnish in the glass.

“I have not,” she said as she eyed the drink.

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