“You bought out my place!” he seethed.
My lips parted as I began telling him the news I’d been waiting for God knows how long to impart. I stood, placed my hands on the edge of his desk and leaned over him. “I’ve waited ten years to ruin you. Unlike you, I have the patience of Job when I need to, and it has paid off. Not only did I buy out your failing restaurants, but I was also the one who reported your poor business tactics to the Better Business Bureau, recruited your top chefs, and promised to double the pay you were giving them. The contracts are signed, deals are done, and renovations start this week.”
I stepped back, adjusting my suit jacket, before addressing him again. “You really should watch who you fuck over. I was young and dumb when you played me, but I’m a grown ass man now. I suggest you find a new line of business to go into. The hospitality industry obviously isn’t your forte any longer.”
With that, I turned and left his office without another word. Rossi would learn soon enough the extent of my payback.
“You ready?” I questioned Isaac, who was now leaned over the receptionist’s desk, speaking in a low, deep tone. I knew it was his dirty macking voice. My hunch was confirmed when I saw the flush of red and the coy smile on the face of the receptionist. The picture before me made me recall a pair of brown eyes that I wanted to see. Unfortunately, I was going to be in Vegas for at least another week, so I was relegated to FaceTiming to see Chanel’s face.
“Sure thing,” Isaac responded.
I nodded and started toward the door, checking my watch for the time. It was a little after six in the evening. It’d been a long day, and I still had more work to do.
“Heather, you have my card. If you need anything, just give me a call.” I lifted my head at that to see Isaac toss a final wink at the receptionist. She giggled in response, holding his business card. He shrugged as we passed through the door and he caught my raised eyebrow.
“I figure she’s going to need a new job soon. There might be somewhere in one of the restaurants she could work.”
I grunted, making a mental note to remind Isaac of my no fraternization policy. But that was for later. Right then, we were headed back to the hotel for a little breather and then another dinner meeting. In the meantime, I pulled out my phone to get in a little FaceTime with my lady.
Chapter Eight
Chanel
“Liza, can you give Mike Walton a call and reschedule tomorrow’s meeting for later in the week?”
“Sure thing. Any day in particular you had in mind?”
“No, just not tomorrow.”
“Not a problem.”
I hung up with my assistant, glad that little glitch was out of the way. I’d been working so many hours that I forgot I’d made a plan with Gabby to take the next afternoon off to look at places for her salon with her. I began sorting through the files in my emails looking for Richard Crawford’s. I had a meeting with him later that afternoon and needed to do some work to update him on the process of his divorce.
I became lost in the throng of legal reports and research. Needing a stretch, I stood and paced my office as I read over the information I’d printed out. I got so absorbed in my work, I was startled when I heard a knock on my office door. I looked up to see Liza. Standing behind her was my father.
“Dad,” I blurted, surprised. He wore a three-piece tailored suit, towering over Liza as his six-foot build stood behind her. My father, though in his sixties, was fit, and the consummate businessman. Not for the first time, I noticed how he exuded the image of success and prosperity. I knew that’s what drew people, many of whom were women, to him. That thought made me think of Xavier for some reason.
“I was here for a meeting with Jack, and when I came out, I saw Liza, who offered to show me to your office,” he stated.
“Oh, that’s fine. Come in.” I tried to shake the surprise out of my voice.
“Chanel, I rescheduled that meeting for Thursday at two o’clock,” Liza informed me.
“Thank you,” I nodded and waited for Liza to turn before shutting my office door.
“Have a seat. You had a meeting with Jack Russell?”
“Yes, he’s an old friend.”
“You’ve got quite a few of those.”
“I’ve been in this business a long time.”
We grew silent for a few minutes. This was the first time I’d seen my father since I’d burst in his office accusing him of being behind that hit piece on me. Suddenly, a wave of guilt moved through my belly. I may not have had the best relationship with my father, but accusing him of hiring someone to write that hideous article outing my past abuse for the world to see isn’t something he would do.
“Dad, I need to apologize for coming into your office the way I did a few weeks ago.”
He waved his hand dismissively as he lowered himself into the chair opposite my desk. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
