Wolf disconnected the call while Spencer texted Elliot to say he’d heard about the television report and that Wolf was okay. But when he finished and saw the lines of strain on Wolf’s face, he knew that was a lie.
“Come to bed. I’ll make you feel better.”
“Doubtful.”
But he took Spencer’s hand.
***
The next morning, he left Wolf, who had gone to the office since he didn’t want to chance returning home to any press hanging around, and headed uptown to Chess and André’s. He made sure to have a full listing of the people he thought could be helpful, and he planned to pitch a couple of new designers he’d had his eye on. Getting into an exclusive organization like Webster Properties would be huge for them.
Chess opened the door, and they hugged. “Come on in. Bianca is here, and there’s breakfast in case you didn’t have any yet.”
“Of course I didn’t. I knew where I was going and planned accordingly. I had my one cup with Wolf, who, by the way, makes the worst coffee in the world, unless you like it stronger than sin.”
“I thought that would be your favorite kind.” André waved him over. “Don’t you always say the sinners have much more fun?”
“Hello, sweetheart.” He kissed Bianca hello and made a face at a grinning André. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you in one of those fancy schools you went to that it’s not nice to criticize your guests and throw their words back at them?” He took his seat at the table and got a plate. He selected a few pieces of lox, an everything bagel, capers, and some cream cheese. “This is beautiful.” Chess brought him a cappuccino, and he sighed happily. “You know what they say: rich or poor, it’s nice to have money.”
Chess snorted. “You have a way with words.”
“One of my better qualities.” He munched on half his bagel and wiped his lips. “Okay. Let’s get down to business. I’ve prepared a list of designers who, exclusive as they are, would sell a body part to be featured in one of Webster’s hotels. How were you thinking of doing this?” He directed his question to Bianca. “Were you going with displays in the lobby, a shop, maybe both? You could do brochures featuring each designer, and if you want to cater to the überwealthy, suggest a private showing of merchandise. Send it up to their room or suite along with a dessert or a bouquet of flowers. Something special for them. All these fabulously wealthy people love being sucked up to.”
André coughed. “Do tell.” His blue eyes danced.
“You know I’m right. I love you, and you’re not like them. But the things I’ve been told to do…” Spencer waved his hand. “Kiss the ring, kiss their ass…whatever you can do to make them feel important. And make a sale. The truth is the truth. No sugarcoating. It’s business.”
“I hadn’t thought of all that, Spencer. It’s brilliant. I love it.” Bianca took notes, and he sipped his cappuccino. “I’ve been running ragged with the rebranding of the hotel, and I haven’t had time to focus on all the details.”
“You mentioned not only having designers with concessions in the hotel, but you also want to come up with your own brand of sheets, towels, and bath goods?”
“Yes. Also loungewear.” She rubbed her face. “So much to think about.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. It’s always a bit bumpy in the beginning. Lucky for you, Daddy Spencer is here with all his insider info.” The first half of his bagel finished, he spread cream cheese on the second and laid several pieces of lox on top. “Keep feeding me breakfasts like this, and I may never leave.”
Aware of André’s intense scrutiny, he cocked his head. “What? You’re looking at me funny. Do I have cream cheese on my face? My esthetician swears mayonnaise on the skin works wonders, but I think it’s disgusting.” He wiped at his chin, thinking about him and Wolf and the night before. He didn’t mind a little cream on his face, but it had to be the right kind.
Chess elbowed him. “I recognize that grin and can only imagine what’s going through your mind.”
“Was I smiling?” He grinned broadly. “I plead the fifth. Besides, there’s a lady present.”
Chess laughed, and Bianca made a face. “I grew up with two brothers. Trust me. I’ve heard it all.”
André remained quiet, and Spencer waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? What’s going on in there? I see wheels turning.”
“I don’t want to jump on top of Bianca’s part of the business, especially as she’s finding her way. She needs to do this on her own.”
“But? What is it?” She faced him. “I’m not above asking for help. I need it, in fact. Your problem was that you refused to delegate and took on too much. I don’t plan on making that mistake.”
“Why not hire Spencer to head up the luxury brand consignment division? He knows everyone who’s anyone, and with his connections and your drive to push this, it would be a perfect match.”
Bianca’s eyes brightened with excitement. “Oh my God,yes. That would be incredible. We’d get to work together, and you’d be…the director of luxury branding, or something like that.” She faced him across the table. “What do you say? Would you be interested? Please say yes.”
His head spun. “What? Me? Come work for Webster Properties?” Just saying it gave him the shakes. Webster was worldwide. To be a director in a company like that was a success he’d never dreamed he could attain.
“It’s a perfect solution, and I trust you. It would be like having another brother with me. Your sense of style is flawless. The ideas alone—which you just threw off the top of your head—are enough to get us going for the first two years, so I couldn’t imagine what you could envision, working with an entire team. I’d give you freedom to make decisions, and you wouldn’t have to worry about the company because it’s us. Family. Please say yes.”
“I-I don’t know what to say. I’ve never worked on my own before. Are you sure you’re willing to take a chance on me for such a huge commitment?” Sweating, he blotted his forehead with a napkin. “I don’t want to let you or André down.”
