“Like I stated in the agreement, I would like you to keep the staff on for at least six months, to give them time to find a new job,” the older gentleman says.
Sitting forward, I rest my elbows on my knees, linking my fingers. The man swallows, while he watches my every move.
“Here is what I propose.” He goes to cut me off, but I tilt my head to stop him. “I have my clubs, DeMora; I do not run restaurants, but you have run a tight ship, and it impresses me. So, I will counter a deal for you. I will pay what you are asking and I will keep all staff on, unless they wish to leave. Why would I fire staff who know the business inside and out? It does not make business sense to me. So, I will keep them and they will keep the restaurant running.
“I do plan on changing the name, the uniforms also, but I will keep the family feel that you have. There will be some changes but not too much. After all, this restaurant will be linked to my name.”
He stares at me for long minutes, thinking over what I just told him. It is a great fucking deal, and he would be a fool not to take it. I am doing a great thing for his staff; I want to keep this successful business successful.
“Thank you, Mr. De Massy. It pleases me and gives me great peace that they will keep their jobs.” I can see the relief on his face, and his shoulders sag.
“I may be a ruthless prick when it comes to clubs and casinos, DeMora, but when it comes to family, it tugs at my heart, and I will not do harm to family. Even if they are not mine.”
“I am grateful for this. My wife wants to travel, and I am tired of letting her down over the years. So this needs to be done before we have no time left on this Earth.”
I stand and motion for him to follow. Offering him my hand, we shake.
“I will have my lawyers call yours.” He nods, and I signal to my guard to escort Mr. DeMora out.
I step over to the balcony to look down at the people enjoying themselves.
My body is sore from lack of sleep since I flew back home to look for Nell. I certainly wasn't greeted with any kind of welcome. After stopping by her family’s business, Comfort Cup, I left feeling even more like shit.
I sigh and push through the door of Comfort Cup, hoping to speak to Nell, but as I look around, I do not see her. Walking over to the counter, I spot a woman who is an older version of her and my gut knots up. If Nell has told her family what happened, I am expecting for coffee to be thrown at me.
“Hi. Welcome to Comfort Cup, how can I help you?” she asks when I stop at the counter.
“I was hoping to speak to Nell.” Her eyes narrow after my question and I see her shoulders stiffen as she looks me over.
Fuck, Nell has shown them pictures of me.
“My daughter does not want to see you, Mr. DeMassy. I think it is best that you leave.”
“Romeo, please.”
“I think I best stick with formalities, don’t you? Now, there is nothing here for you, you know where the door is.”
“Please, I just want to talk and explain things to her.”
“I believe my wife told you to leave,” a deep voice comes from behind me.
Looking over my shoulder, I see Nell’s father.
Turning to face him, I offer my hand. He looks at it, then looks back to my face.
It is a sign of disrespect in my world, but for Nell’s father I will let it slide and grit my teeth, not wanting to make things worse. I am here to make peace and to explain everything to Nell, not make her family hate me more.
“My daughter is not a fucking toy for rich men to play with. She is kind and sweet and a soft soul. Nell told us everything,and I mean everything. Nell has been through enough with men thinking that she is a fucking doormat, or a toy.” He is getting angrier with each word that he says. “Just like my wife said, you know where the door is.”
Shaking my head, I know that they will not let me see her. I will have to find another way.
“I will go.”
“Good,” her father replies.
“I just want to say this. Nell was never a toy, and our time together was never a fucking game. She made me believe in love again. She made me see that I can have a future with someone after I was hurt. I want that future with her.” I turn to see her mother behind me; her eyes are glassy, but she says nothing.
I leave, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman I love, but I never do— not now, nor any other time I sit across the street.
