by Emma Quinn
The park they were going to tear down to put up a parking structure.
A cursory glance didn’t show the addicts or the needles, but Michael had no reason to doubt what Ethan had told him about the place. Just because the grass was green, and the trees were lush didn’t mean that there weren’t dangers hiding just beneath the surface.
“Are you sure you want to eat here?” asked Ethan. He was eying the place with disgust.
Michael laughed. “It’ll be fine, Ethan. Marcel, please, drop us off here,” he instructed the driver.
“Says you!” Ethan countered. “I can practically feel the food poisoning coming on now. What am I supposed to eat here?”
“According to the sign, comfort food?”
Ethan grumbled something about tasteless slop, but Michael didn’t pay him any attention. Ethan was picky about where he went out to eat. Even Tiffani was open to try new restaurants, though if she didn’t like something about them from the service to the décor she would refuse to go again.
Michael pushed open the door to the restaurant to find that it was quaint on the inside. There was a smattering of wooden tables, the everyday Joe sitting at a handful of them. No one seated them, instead a young waitress in jeans and a t-shirt that said Willems on it told them, “Sit anywhere you like. I’ll be there to take your order in a moment.”
Ethan complained about the service, but Michael didn’t mind. This wasn’t the type of place to have a host or hostess waiting to seat everyone.
Michael led Ethan to a table near one of the windows. A window that looked out onto the park. It made for a beautiful view.
Picking up a menu each, the men browsed their options.
After only a couple of minutes, the waitress came by with waters. “Hi there. Would you like something to drink? Do you need a few minutes with the menu?”
“There are hardly enough options for that,” Ethan answered with a snort.
The waitress looked momentarily startled but managed to keep her smile in place.
Michael was quick to smooth it over. “He means that we’re ready to order.”
“Of course. What can I get you?”
With an excessive sigh, Ethan said, “The steak will have to do.”
“Um, okay. Would you like baked or mashed potatoes with that?”
“I’m hardly a child,” he answered coolly.
The waitress glanced helplessly at Michael who smiled and said, “He means a baked potato. And what would you recommend?”
The waitress hesitated. Ethan’s behavior seemed to make her nervous, but after a moment she said, “The spaghetti and meatballs. The pasta is homemade and so are the meatballs. The beef is from the butcher down the street. It’s a family recipe.”
Michael smiled warmly at her, folding up his menu and handing it to her. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
She smiled in return and hurried away from the table to put their orders in.
“Children,” Ethan grumbled, holding up his glass of water and inspecting it as though he might find something swimming around in it.
Shaking his head, Michael picked up his own water and sipped at it.
“You shouldn’t do that, Michael. Might get typhoid or something.”
Michael laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being reasonable. This place is a disaster. We’ll be doing these people a favor by tearing it down.”
He was looking around at the place in utter disgust. He couldn’t seem to find a single thing he liked about the entire restaurant and refused to do more than glare suspiciously at his water.
“I think your attitude is souring you on this place,” Michael told him. “I think it’s best that I do the talking.”
Ethan didn’t have the chance to further complain about their venue or about Michael’s insistence that he do the talking, because after only a few moments alone at their table, an older couple came out into the dining room. A woman who was older and tired, but still attractive and a man who looked to be her husband, his hair silver, but thick.
They stopped at each of the tables in turn, taking long moments to chat with patrons. It didn’t take long for Michael to guess who they were and a second later, Ethan confirmed it.
“There. The Willems,” he whispered to Michael.
Michael was just about to get up and introduce himself when the couple turned towards their table – and froze. The woman’s face looked suddenly frightened, while the man’s was grim.
A visceral reaction towards people who were only offering a lot of money…
Michael had half a second to acknowledge the alarm bells going off in his head before the couple headed their way. They stopped at the table and Michael rose to introduce himself.
“Mr. and Mrs. Willems, I presume?” he asked, offering his hand.
Mrs. Willems glanced nervously at Ethan, but forced a smile and accepted Michael’s hand. Her husband, however, refused to look away from Ethan. “Yes. Are you with Mr. Edwards?”
“Yes. We’re business partners. My name is Michael Roth, of Roth, Inc.”
“Melody Willems and my husband, Brandon,” she introduced politely.
“It’s a pleasure.”
She only hummed in response.
“Would it be presumptuous for me to invite you to join us?” Michael prompted, indicating the empty chairs at their table. “I would love to sit down and chat.”
The older couple glanced at each other, a silent conversation passing between their eyes before finally Mr. Willems pulled out a chair for his wife. They both sat in stony silence.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said, clearing his throat. “We’ve already ordered. I’m trying the spaghetti. I’m told it’s excellent.”
“Family recipe,” Mrs. Willems answered simply.
Ethan harrumphed, but otherwise remained silent. He didn’t share what he’d ordered nor did he have a compliment to offer the place. Michael was relieved.
“I think maybe we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” Michael offered when the couple didn’t engage further. “I understand that this is your restaurant and you’re hesitant to sell it.”
The couple shared another furtive look before Mr. Willems’ gaze shifted to Ethan. It wasn’t a pleasant look.
“But I want to make it clear that we’re willing to compensate you generously for your restaurant.”
“Yes, we’re aware of the compensation package,” Mr. Willems offered coolly. “And as we’ve told your partner, we’re not selling.” He sat up taller as he said it, defiance radiating from him.
“I understand. This is your life’s work. You love this place – and I can see why.” Michael smiled softly, gesturing towards the quaint little place surrounding them. “It’s something to be proud of. But the neighborhood has already sold. We’re going to clean this place up, provide—”
Michael stopped suddenly.
The door had opened and in walked a woman that for a second was a being of pure light. She was bathed in sunshine, illuminated by it. Her figure was a silhouette of perfection and light and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes from it. When the door closed behind her, she was suddenly just a woman.
A perfect, beautiful woman.
Her hair was dark and softly curled in the natural sense, as though she couldn’t be bothered with it so she simply let it do as it pleased. Her eyes were dark, her lashes long, and the curve of her lips seemed to whisper to him as they parted to take a breath. She was stunning, even in her jeans and the soft top she wore.
Her eyes seemed to be drawn to his. They met from across the room and for a moment, it was like the whole of the room had frozen. Time itself ceased and it was just them, staring, sharing an inexplicable moment.
Then it was shattered.
The woman’s eyes flickered in recognition and then seemed to set alight with fire. Her full mouth set into a hard line and a moment later, she changed her trajectory. She was walking directly towards them.
&nb
sp; Suddenly, he knew.
I’m in trouble.
4
Helen
T
he sun was bright outside despite the chill in the January air and it took Helen a moment to adjust to being inside again. She paused just inside the doorway of her parents’ restaurant, taking in the familiarity of being there, the smells and warmth of the place that was so much like home. In fact, her parents now lived upstairs above the restaurant.
She’d been worried about that initially. They were getting older, what if someone fell down the stairs, and wasn’t it important to have space away from work?
But her worries seemed to be completely unfounded. Her parents were happy here. Happier than she’d ever seen them.
Now as she stood in the doorway, she realized that part of her longed to have what they had. Happiness wrapped up in not just their work but each other. A family. It was something she usually told herself she didn’t really care about, but these days it was harder to ignore. There was a longing inside her that she couldn’t explain.
Her eyes scanned the restaurant, seeking out her parents. But before she found them, her gaze caught on someone else.
Someone devastatingly handsome.
He was staring at her from across the dining room and it was like being struck by lightning. There was something in his gaze that was predatory, confident, determined. He wasn’t the kind of man that took no for an answer and was very familiar with getting what he wanted.
Maybe that was impossible to know from just his eyes, but she was sure it was the truth. It clung to him like heavy perfume, this strength and esteem. It was like the fancy suit he wore or the smooth way he wore his silky hair. There wasn’t a piece of him that wasn’t put together, that wasn’t cloaked in elegance and wealth.
It wasn’t the type of thing Helen normally found sexy… but on him it was. So, sexy.
She felt drawn to him as though he’d tied a rope to her heart, tugging her slowly in his direction, willing her to come to him. And she wanted to. Without question.
It was a terrifying reaction to have to someone and something that hadn’t happened to Helen before.
It was visceral.
His dark gaze held hers, and she might have fallen into those dark eyes to drown herself in if she hadn’t put the pieces together finally.
A man in a fine suit sitting in her parents’ restaurant. Across from him was another man, well-dressed, older, and wearing a mask of disdain. Her parents were there, too, sitting stiffly in chairs with these two men.
Men that didn’t belong in a quaint little restaurant in a poorer neighborhood.
It clicked.
These were the men trying to buy her parents out.
Rage swelled inside her like a balloon wanting to pop in her chest. It was so intense it hurt. Her eyes narrowed and she felt her hands ball into fists. She would handle this. She wasn’t going to let these men bully her parents into selling, no matter how attractive one of them was.
No matter how much the butterflies in her stomach refused to leave.
Her flats made tiny clopping sounds and for once Helen understood the want to be wearing heels. She wanted to be powerful and intimidating, not feel like some grade school girl trying to play with the big kids. She wanted these men to be afraid of her.
They will be in a second, she promised herself silently.
She stalked over to the table and stopped beside her parents. They looked up in surprise.
“Helen, we—” her mother began, but Helen’s entire focus was reserved for the sexy man seated at the table.
“My parents aren’t going to sell.” It was a simple, direct statement, but she put as much determination and venom behind the words, willing this man to understand that she wasn’t going to cave. And she wouldn’t let this happen to her parents.
The man’s mouth, made from two full lips that pressed together just right, kicked up in one corner. He pushed back from the table and stood, offering her his hand. “Miss Helen Willems, is it?”
She didn’t accept his hand. “Yes, it is. And I’m not going to let you bully my parents into accepting some bullshit offer so that you can building a damn parking lot!”
“It’s a luxury apartment complex,” the older man still seated at the table corrected her. His face was ruddy and his mask of disdain hadn’t left. She liked him least of all.
Ignoring him, she continued her tirade against the younger man. “And what about that park? Do you have any idea the kind of ecosystem exists there? And you’re just going to tear it up because it’s in your way! Well, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Wealthy, I won’t let you do it!”
“It’s Michael Roth,” he politely interrupted.
Her eyes narrowed as she felt her cheeks flush. “Mr. Roth. It’s been an absolute drag to meet you and I’m horrified to know that you’re trying to force my parents out of their life’s work. I’m dismayed to have met you and I hope that you understand that you’ve made an enemy out of me.”
Her words were meant to sting, but they didn’t seem to have any effect on Mr. Michael Roth at all. If anything he looked… amused.
He was amused.
This only served to enrage her further and she thought very seriously about punching his pretty face.
“Helen, please!” This was her mother, her delicate hands tugging on Helen’s arm. “Calm down!”
“I’m not going to calm down, mom,” Helen insisted, turning to look at her mother who was terrified at the entire interaction. “This is your life! And I want these men to understand that money can’t buy them everything! Sometimes happiness can only be built with love and hard work, not some golden credit card or endless checkbook.”
“I can see we’ve upset you,” Mr. Roth offered.
Helen returned her attention to him. He was incredibly handsome. Perfectly put together and in good shape, she could tell even beneath the perfectly tailored suit. Or maybe because of it. And his hair was deliberated styled just so. The urge to run her hands through it—
She stopped herself from taking those thoughts any further, clutching at her anger instead. “I don’t expect you to understand the reasons why this place is important, but I do expect you to understand that I’m not giving this up without a fight.”
His smile was still in place, but instead of answering, he said, “I think we’ll take the meal to go, if you please.”
Helen blinked. “What?”
“Of course, sir.”
Helen nearly jumped when she realized that Josie, one of the young waitresses that worked here, was standing right behind her with two plates of food.
“I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but I’d hate to cause any trouble.”
“Not a problem at all, sir. I’ll get it boxed up.”
She scampered away then, disappearing back into the kitchen.
“Helen, please,” her mother was trying again. “This really isn’t the time for this.”
Helen thought about continuing her tirade, but suddenly felt as though the entire restaurant was watching her, staring at her. She was making a complete scene and while she didn’t necessarily care – she wanted these jerks to know that she meant business – she didn’t want to seem like a crazy person either. Better to be the calm one in a fight, she’d learned.
Smoothing out her blouse, she lifted her chin and stared down the sexy Mr. Roth. “I hope you understand what you’re getting into, Mr. Roth. This place is important to my parents, to the community, and to me. I won’t let anything bad happen to that.”
“Yes. I’m definitely beginning to understand that.”
Before another fight could begin, Josie returned with two to-go containers with their food. Mr. Roth was already digging into his wallet and Helen was surprised when he left a couple of bills. Large bills. He set them on the table and smiled at Josie. “Please keep the change. Mr. and Mrs. Willems, I hope we can have another chat at a more convenient time. I promise not to drop in unannounced next time.”
>
No one said anything. They simply watched as Mr. Roth and his partner left the restaurant with their food. As soon as the older gentleman with Mr. Roth was out the door, he threw his to go container into the trash, but Mr. Roth held on to his as he entered the limo that pulled up beside them.
Helen felt her anger cool slightly, but her insides still felt like they were melting after her encounter with the devastating Mr. Roth.
5
Helen
“ H
e’s an entitled, self-assured, egotistical—”
Helen had been ranting for the better part of the morning. It had been a couple of days since encountering Mr. Roth, the evil genius behind the corporate takeover of her parents’ little restaurant and the park across the street, but she was still furious. Her parents had insisted she leave it alone, that getting angry wasn’t going to solve anything.
She disagreed.
“Sexy,” Fiona added, clicking on the mousepad of her laptop. She shoved her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, eyes focused on the screen.
“Are you not listening to me?” Helen demanded, stopping her pacing so that she could face Fiona and put her hands on her hips. “I just said he’s basically the devil!”
Fiona shrugged. “I know. But the devil’s attractive apparently.”
Helen didn’t bring up the fact that she’d basically had an orgasm at the first sight of him. That wouldn’t exactly help her case and bring Fiona back to focus on the fact that he was evil.
But the truth was, he was definitely sexy.
“Looks are not the point,” Helen insisted, feeling her cheeks warm. She was grateful that Fiona was immersed in her computer and didn’t notice. “The point is he’s trying to bully my parents into selling their lifelong dream!”
Fiona glanced over her shoulder at Helen and frowned. “Yeah, that’s pretty crappy of him. Are we sure it’s the same guy? According to his media presence he’s a big charity donor.”