“How do you know what I like?” I question before following him to where he had been seated. I didn’t even see him when I walked in, probably because I haven’t had my caffeine hit yet.
“You had a coffee on your desk yesterday, and the cup had your order written on it.”
“Oh.” I didn’t even think of that.
He pulls out a chair for me before he takes the one opposite me.
“Have I kept you waiting long?” I ask because no one ever arrives before me.
“Not too long,” he answers simply.
I reach into my bag and pull out a brochure I made for him late last night. It shows the properties I think he might be interested in, with pictures, so he can choose which ones he would like to arrange to view based on the facts with which I was already familiar. When I place it on the table, he gives it a brief glance before raising his eyes back to me without saying a word.
“So, I put together a few options, and I can schedule viewings of whichever you’d prefer. Would you mind catching me up on the purpose of your property? Maybe that can help narrow it down for us.” I slide the brochure over to him, but he ignores it. Our coffees arrive, and mine is exactly what I usually order. I smile as I reach for it, but he makes no move to take his.
“I own many restaurants, which I’m sure you’re aware of,” he says, and I nod in acknowledgment.
“I am. I hear they’re lovely.”
“You’ve never been to one of them?” he asks, shocked.
I grip my mug tighter, hoping I haven’t screwed this up. “No, sorry, I haven’t.”
Arlo sits back in his seat and stares at me. “I guess we can change that,” he says offhandedly as he looks down at the brochure. “I’m after a location that is large enough to host private parties and where no one can see who is coming and going.”
“So, you would need a parking situation where your guests can come and go without being seen. Got it! What else?”
“I don’t want a bustling neighborhood with busybody neighbors.”
“Okay, so quiet.” I nod and take his notes down into my phone. “I think if you’re comfortable with it, we need to head farther out of town. How far would you like to travel or have your customers travel?”
“They will travel where I tell them to.”
I raise my head in response to the authority in his tone, recalling how I saw him last night. He didn’t make an effort to approach me, but Soren, his friend whom I’ve met before, did. Soren didn’t say too much. He simply asked how I was and how the business was going.
“No problem. I have somewhere in mind. I have a driver who can take us out there if you would like.”
“Now?” he asks.
“Yes, he’s only around the corner. He’s never too far, which is handy during work hours.”
He stands and looms over me. “Let’s go,” he insists. I glance at my coffee, which I haven’t even touched, and he says, “I’ll have them put it in a to-go cup.” Then he proceeds to take it to the counter and says something to the barista, who pours the coffee into a paper cup before he turns back to me.
After texting the driver, I quickly put all my things back into my bag and follow him out the door. We stand there, and he slides on his sunglasses, but I still feel his gaze trained on me.
“He shouldn’t be long,” I tell him reassuringly.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asks, and I turn to face him.
“No, should you?” The lie falls from my lips so easily. But in reality, he makes my pulse rush so fucking fast when he is near.
“Yes, I should,” he replies, tone low, deep, and measured.
I’m taken aback by his words, and that’s the moment my driver pulls up in front of us. “Can I ask why?” I hear the driver open the car door, but neither of us moves to slide in.
“It would be a smart thing to do.”
“I am smart,” I throw back at him, my voice sharper than I intend. I didn’t get where I am today through dumb luck—I earned every step. I worked my ass off for it. Just because I don’t hold a fancy degree like he does doesn’t mean I am less than. Not even close.
