“Gladwell is always a good talk.”
It felt like the lighting in the room went up a few notches with the widening of her smile.
“I can’t wait to read his latest book. I think it’s going to be on the level ofTalking With Strangers,” she said.
“And you better not start it without me,” I warned.
“What’s to stop me?” she asked, her voice dipping to a sultry tone.
“I have something that’ll—” My phone buzzed with an incoming text. Anger roiled in my belly. This was happening more and more—my annoyance at the interruptions from my work phone. But when I was with Mia that was the only place that I wanted to be. The only place that mattered.
I gave her an apologetic look across the table. She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“It’s okay.”
With a sigh, I checked my phone. It was a text from Joseph. He alerted me that the extra staffing we inquired about hiring for next week’s gala was a go.
“Everything all right?” Mia asked while unfolding the cloth napkin across her lap.
“Minor work thing.” I reached across the table for her hand. I intertwined my fingers with hers, grinning at how small her hand looked in my massive one. But there was not a damn thing tiny about Mia’s presence. Not as she sat across from me and not in my heart.
“Were you able to hire more staff?”
I paused as our waitress brought out glasses of wine and appetizers of pork and vegetable dumplings along with edamame.
“For the gala, yes,” I answered once our waitress left. “But …” I pushed out a breath, wondering what the hell I was going to do about the few weeks after the gala. Three out of the four Townsend brothers had travel plans. Some were for business and while others were for family downtime.
I didn’t like the increased threats that targeted the family. With a family like the Townsends, often there were former or current business rivals who were bound to talk shit. My office received a handful of threats every month, but something stood out to me about the most recent ones.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Mia asked with a lifted eyebrow.
I squeezed her hand in mine. I rarely talked about work with anyone. On occasion, with Jameson or another one of my friends in the same line of work. But it was an unwritten rule between us that we didn’t share specifics of our jobs. Though, we might ask for another’s input if they had experience with a particular situation.
Hell, I rarely talked to my father about the job, and I’d taken over the position from him.
Blowing out a breath, I leaned into the table. “Staffing issues.”
Mia frowned contemplatively. She looked fucking delectable when she wore that expression. As if she was trying to solve the world’s problems.
“We’re spread a little thin,” I told her. “Nothing to worry about. Or that I can’t handle.”
She squeezed my hand back. “I bet Rick wouldn’t mind helping out for a short while.”
I blinked. “My dad?”
She laughed, and the sound shot straight to my dick.
“He’s the only Rick I know.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you know that I don’t?”
She shrugged. “Not much. But when he and I were talking the other night—”
“What other night?”
“Three nights ago, when you had to work late. We talked on the phone.”
I blinked again. “You had a conversation with my father?”
