“Stop,” he says. “Just…I’m not going to fire you.”
“You’re…you’re not?” I blink.
“No,” he says, leaning back in his chair and studying me. “Actually. I have a proposition for you.”
I wipe my eyes. “A proposition?” I ask. “Like a promotion?”
Dominic smiles briefly before he leans in and says, “Not exactly.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out before going on. “I’m in a bit of a bind.”
“Okay…” I say. I’m curious. I wasn’t expecting to run into him last night. And I wasn’t expecting this conversation to go, well, whatever way it’s going right now.
“I’m the CEO of one of the most sought-after security companies in the country,” he says. “I’m sure you know that, though. I supply physical and technical security guards and systems for prestigious people, everyone from government officials to celebrities and hospitals to banks.”
“You mean you don’t just underground box for a living?” I joke. I immediately regret it, but luckily, Dominic doesn’t seem to mind.
“No. Believe it or not, that’s what I do for fun,” he says.
“I’m sure if I were a man of your stature, I’d find beating the shit out of Rafe entertaining too,” I say. This time, I get a small twitch of a smile out of him.
“Speaking of Rafe Shaeffer,” he goes on. “He works in security too. He’s a competitor of mine, and right now, we are both bidding on a huge job. One that could affect a lot of bank accounts depending on who secures it. Including my own.”
“And you don’t think you can outbid him?” I ask. “You live next to pop stars.”
“That may be, but having neighbors with Grammy trophies on their fireplace mantels doesn’t exactly help me. Especially since my competitor is a known cheater,” he says. “The investment company we are competing for needs the best of the best. It’s going to take an obscene amount of money for them to even consider my bid.”
“Well, I don’t know if I can help you with that, sir,” I tell him. “I don’t even have money for a mani-pedi after I pay my rent most of the time. Not unless I eat Ramen noodles seven days a week. The microwavable kind, not the fancy kind.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking you for money,” he says. “I have an inheritance. And at my father’s age, he should be handing it over any day now.”
“Are you waiting for him to die?” I ask, surprised at his lack of sensitivity.
“No. He’s waiting for me to fall in love.”
“Sir?”
Now I’m really lost.
Dominic leans in closer, close enough that I can smell his cologne.
“Married. I have to be married to access my inheritance,” he says. “And I can’t do that without a woman involved.”
“I mean that certainly makes sense. But I don’t see what that has to do with me,” I say with a chuckle.
Dominic blinks.
Then I blink.
Then neither of us blinks for a hot minute.
“Wait. Are you…proposing?” I ask with my jaw on the floor.
“Not in so many words, no,” he says, and I let my breath out.
Thank God. That would have been wild. But then, my heart sinks at what I realize he is actually asking.
“I get it. You think I can help you find a wife. Well, unless you’re interested in any of the other waitresses at the Cockpit, I don’t think I’m going to be much help,” I tell him.
“I’m not interested in any of the other waitresses at the Cockpit,” he says, and my heart slams into my ribcage.
