by Sandra Scott
George and Jayson shook their heads.
Hog, who sat on the matching couch across from them, grinned broadly. “Well now, that’s mighty hospitable of you, partner,” he said, his voice near booming. “Maybe I’ll take a drink later. But for now, I’d rather my tank run on empty to keep my mind focused on business.”
Nodding, Stefano graced the servant woman with a gentle smile. “Thank you, Helena—we are all fine for the moment.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
After closing the door on her retreating back, he strolled toward the couch to sit a few feet from their visitor. Covertly, he studied the tall older Texan, who’d settled at the other end of the long white settee as if he owned the place.
“Let us proceed,” George said.
Hog laughed. He leaned forward. “I like a straight shooter—someone who comes out guns a-blazing and wants to get to the point. Those are the kinda folks you can do proper business with.”
George shifted forward, mirroring Hog’s posture. “Mr. Grainger, we have not decided whether we will do business,” he said. Eyeing Hog, George slowly sat back. “However, I wish to thank you for traveling such a great distance to discuss the possibility.”
“Shoot, think nothing of it. I do stuff like this all the time.” Hog’s grin lengthened as his focus shifted across the low coffee table to Jayson. “Well now, it’s nice to see you again, youngster. It’s a small world, us meeting on the plane coming over, isn’t it?”
Jayson returned the Texan’s smile. “It sure is, Mr. Grainger.”
“Ah-ah!”
“I mean Hog.”
“There you go,” Hog said, missing Stefano’s disgust at the nickname. He pressed on. “So, young’un, how’s the doctor wife these days?”
“Still absolutely beautiful, if you recall,” Jayson said proudly. “And we’re still over the top in love.”
“Good, good!” Hog exclaimed, once again bobbing his head. “Now, remember, love can just about conquer anything.”
“Could we conduct our business?” Stefano asked, trying yet failing to mask his irritation at the direction the conversation had taken. “Please.”
Hog turned his way, lifting one brushy eyebrow. “What? You don’t care for your sister-in-law, young Theonopilus?”
“Why would you say such a thing, Mr. Grainger?”
Hog shrugged. However, Stefano didn’t quite buy the gesture’s displayed nonchalance. “I don’t know. Maybe your tone. Your demeanor,” he said agreeably.
“Jayson’s wife has nothing whatsoever to do with this meeting,” Stefano said. “Let us just stick to the business at hand.”
“I see.”
“And what is it you see, Mr. Grainger?”
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” The Texan grinned. “And please, do call me Hog.”
“I prefer not, Mr. Grainger,” Stefano said, his voice tight.
Hog shrugged again. “Suit yourself.” Casually, his eyes wandered back to Jayson. “Never minding your brother, I wouldn’t mind seeing your little filly again to say hello.”
“I can arrange it,” Jayson said. He quickly rose from his seat, his relieved expression akin to that of a prison parolee. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go bring her in after you three have finished your meeting.”
Hog studied Jayson with a curious eye. “Don’t you want to get in on our talk, son?” he asked.
“I’m here for show. It’s my father and brother who have the final say if this venture’s to happen.”
“But aren’t you part owner here as well?”
“Technically, yes,” Jayson said. “But they actually run the business, so you’re talking to the right people. Me? I’m going into ministry soon.”
“I see.”
“And what do you see this time, Mr. Grainger?” Stefano asked, feeling the tic above his left eye materialize.
Hog lifted a palm toward Stefano. “Now, don’t get your panties in a wad, young man. I’m just making friendly chitchat. That’s all.”
The tic ceased as Stefano’s brow rose in reproach. “Your colorful euphemisms are not needed—or wanted—in this meeting, Mr. Grainger. Please kindly keep the conversation professional, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, my son is right. If we can get on with our business,” George said.
“As you wish,” Hog said gruffly. “My apologies for offending.”
The room grew silent until Jayson, who shifted on awkward feet, softly padded across the floor as if leaving a wake.
“I’ll leave you gentlemen to it,” he said in hushed tones. He gently closed the doors behind him.
“Now, that’s a mighty fine lad you’ve got there Mr. Theonopilus,” Hog said, his eyes cutting toward Stefano. “Yessir, Jayson’s a mighty fine boy.”
“Thank you,” George said. “Now, Mr. Grainger, please continue.”
Hog coughed once to clear his throat. “All righty then. My research on your family business reveals you’ve been having some difficulties over the years increasing, or even maintaining, your olive crops. Me, being a businessman of some means, figured I could help out by offering my services and resources to you—get your family’s business up and running to its previous glory days.”
“Other than a shareholder’s profit, what, may I ask, would you get from this proposed investment venture?” Stefano asked.
“Well now, let’s see—there’s the actual investing aspect. As I told Jayson on the plane … By the way, it’s such a coincidence I happened to be sitting behind him and his bewitching wife on the flight over. Don’t ya think?” Smiling, he paused to gaze at the others, as if waiting for their confirmation. When none came, Hog chuckled clumsily and continued. “I’m looking to jump outta my cattle box into different business ventures. You know, expand my financial portfolio.”
“Why have you chosen Athens?” George asked. “Why us?”
“Actually, a few years back, I purchased a small villa some twenty miles north of here. My wife, Lillian, bless her soul, loved it whenever we vacationed there. We had planned to move over here permanently once I retired. Alas, she passed away before it happened. Lillian was a lovely, vibrant, highly intelligent woman.”
George’s eyes turned sad. “Yes, I understand your loss, for I too lost my wife some years ago.”
Hog wiped away a real or imaginary tear—from his angle, Stefano was unable to tell. “Yes. Andra kinda puts me to mind of my Lillian,” Hog said.
“Oh,” George said with a wistful smile. “Was your wife African American as well?”
The Texan’s expression turned reflective. “No, my Lillian was a beautiful, fiery Spaniard. That was my name for her: Beauty. Her sexy Spanish ways could set a man’s blood to boil!” His face quickly took on a hardened quality. “I loved Beauty deeply, and she was mine, until she was taken away from me too soon.”
Hog’s words seemed to push George into his own private world of agony; his eyes misted from memories no one else could see.
The room grew quiet. When Hog cleared his throat for the second time, his pain sounded genuine. “Well now, it’s a small world, each losing the loves of our lives right before we truly began to live.”
“I am sorry for both your and my father’s loss, Mr. Grainger,” Stefano said. “However, we are at a business meeting. No disrespect, sir, but please continue with your reasons for investing in our olive business.”
“Right again, boy.” Hog sniffed once more for good measure, his expression melancholy as he smiled. “Women tend to get you off track, don’t they?” At Stefano’s noncommittal stare, he continued. “Anyway, the wave of the future is natural, organic, and such, so I figured I’d invest in said wave. Olive oil, particularly virgin olive oil, is extremely healthy and in high demand, especially in the States, and can be used for anything from consumption to skin care—eve
n hair care. Your daughter-in-law, Mr. Theonopilus, can attest to that. Hair care, especially olive-oil-infused products per se, are very big with her people. An extremely huge market.”
George looked surprised at the information but nodded anyway.
Hog returned the nod and continued. “Within the past few years, demands within the business sector, as well as from the individual consumer, have skyrocketed. Investing in your company just makes good sense.”
Stefano glanced over at his father, who gave him a quick nod to signal he would ask the next question.
“Yet you will be investing money into a company you yourself have admitted is struggling. Why do it?” George shrugged. “Why not simply invest in a company more financially stable? Is this not how good business works?”
Hog’s head bobbed. “You have an excellent point, Mr. Theonopilus. Most people play it safe and invest in stable ventures with little or no risk involved. But I’m not most people. I haven’t gotten where I am by playing it safe. Sometimes you have to go with what looks unstable and stabilize it. I find that kinda risk’s more challenging and usually more profitable if it works out.”
“And what if it does not work out?” Stefano said.
“Well now, young fella, that’ll be like succumbing to defeat, and I’m not one for givin’ up easily.” Hog’s smile was confident. “Besides, I’ve got plenty of money left to go on to the next venture. And there’s the profit-and-loss column on my income tax for such deficits if they occur.”
At the word succumbing, Stefano rose and made his way to the bar. As he fixed himself a drink, he decided to stay where he was instead of returning to sit next to Hog. Lifting his brandy and ice, he paused in contemplation before taking a small sip. Swallowing slowly, he lowered his glass and gazed into it. “You appear to have it all figured out, Mr. Grainger.”
Hog laughed. Following Stefano’s lead, he stood and crossed the room to stand with him at the bar. Grinning good-naturedly, he clapped a hearty hand on Stefano’s shoulder, but he immediately retracted it when Stefano glared at it. “Sorry, son—didn’t mean to invade your personal space. I’ll have that drink now, if you don’t mind. Scotch and soda over rocks, please.”
Hog waited until he had his drink in hand before continuing. “Well, young Theonopilus, I didn’t come to be as successful as I am now without learning a thing or two before jumping into anything businesswise, including marriage.”
Stefano attempted to suppress a grimace at the word marriage, yet by the way their inquisitive visitor studied him, he knew he hadn’t succeeded.
The knock at the study’s door came abruptly; a second later, Jayson and Andra entered.
Stefano turned his back to Grainger and watched them step into the room. Completely dismissing his younger brother, Stefano felt his breath catch at the sight of Andra, who was dressed in fitted blue jeans, a white sleeveless tunic, and white athletic running shoes. Her attire, demure by the day’s standard, draped her shapely body to perfection. Her thick brown hair fell in fat ringlets about her arresting face, and extra-large silver hoop earrings peaked out beyond the naturally curly strands.
Desperate to hold back his imagination, it ran amok anyway; Stefano’s mind envisioned her clothing falling away to ultimately leave Andra magnificently naked and sensually vulnerable.
“Well now, isn’t she stunning?” Hog said to no one in particular.
Once again, Stefano was aware the Texan carefully studied him. Unnerved, he reigned in his lust concerning his sister-in-law and quickly rerouted his thoughts to the section of his brain that continuously worked on sending her back to America.
“Are we too early?” Jayson said, holding Andra’s hand.
“No,” Stefano said, walking away from the bar and their visitor. This time, he chose to sit on the couch next to his father. “We have concluded the meeting. Please come in.”
Alone at the bar, Hog stood uncertainly with his drink in hand; he then plastered a smile on his face and made his way over to Andra. Reaching out, he enveloped her much smaller hand in an enthusiastic handshake. “Well, hello, Doctor! It’s a pleasure running upon you again.” His grin was infectious. “Your husband’s right—you’re still as fine a-lookin’ filly as ever.” Releasing his grasp, Hog swept his hand toward the waiting empty couch. “After you, my lovely lady.”
Andra giggled self-consciously. “Thank you, Hog. It’s nice to see you again too.”
She strolled ahead of Jayson and Hog to sit in the middle section of the couch. A second later, he and Jayson lowered themselves to the left and right of her, respectively.
Under silver-colored eyebrows, Hog’s blue orbs bounced from one man to the next. Brusquely, he cleared his throat. “Are we done here? I wasn’t for sure.”
“I believe so,” George said, nodding. “We need time to consider your proposition.”
“I can draw up some numbers for you to ponder,” he said hopefully.
Stefano kept his eyes focused on the silver-haired Texan, wanting to remain silent, but thought it necessary to add to the conversation, if only to put it to an end. “No, you’ve given us all the information we need for now, Mr. Grainger.”
“All righty, fair enough.” Hog put away his scotch in one quick swallow and briefly lifted the drained glass. “Good liquor. Well, I’ve got other things that need attending to. I’ll be in Athens another week or two. Driving to my villa to see what’s what over there.” When he received no answer, Hog turned toward Andra, who sat quietly studying her hands in her lap. “So, Doctor, how are these fellows treating you here? Is it what you expected?”
Andra flinched. Momentarily, she lifted her head to stare at Hog. “Very well, sir.” Her eyes shifted across the coffee table to look at George’s smiling face, next Stefano’s stoic one, only to return to Hog. “It’s a lot to take in, but I’m adjusting.”
“Well, I was telling your father-in-law how much you remind me of my wife, Beauty. Either one of you can set a room ablaze just entering it.”
Andra’s smile was shy. “Thank you—you’re much too generous with your compliments.”
“I have to say it’s true, lil’ lady.”
Unable to keep his own eyes off her, Stefano observed Andra fidget under Grainger’s heavy-handed praise until he realized the older man again watched him. He swiftly shifted his gaze to his brandy. When the older businessman finally stood on cowboy-boot feet, Stefano couldn’t help but exhale with inaudible relief.
“Well, I must be off,” Hog said.
The other men rose in unison.
George circled the coffee table to shake Hog’s hand. “I apologize for not asking you earlier, but would you care to stay for lunch, Mr. Grainger?”
“Yes, please stay,” Jayson and Andra said, joining in.
“I thank you three kindly. I would, but I’ve another meeting to attend,” he said, and when Stefano stared at him with blatant curiosity, Hog laughed nervously. “Somewhat impromptu.” He bent to place his empty glass on the coffee table and turned to face Andra, grabbing her hand again in a gentle handshake. “Good to see you, darlin’. I’m sure we’ll meet again real soon.” He grinned widely, but the smile dimmed once he faced the others. “Good morning, gentlemen. I’ll just find my own way out.”
His tall frame strolled from the room. The sitting area remained quiet as Hog’s boot-clad feet stomped their way across the tile foyer floor and out the front door.
Stefano never had been so glad to witness a person leave.
“Tell me your thoughts,” George said, returning to his seat.
“I cannot be sure, Papa.” Stefano made his way back to the bar to refresh his drink. His eyes left the pouring liquor to touch upon Andra’s face. “When it comes to this Mr. Hog, there is—how do you Americans say?—more than meets the eye.”
“Close enough,” Andra said. Her tone then turned defensive. “Howeve
r, I like him. He’s nice.”
Jayson raised his hand. “I agree, Stefano. He may come off as a little rough around the edges, but I believe he’s a good fellow. Yes, I’m with Andra; he’s very nice.”
Looking off into space, Stefano sipped on his brandy before speaking. “Nice, Jayson? Nice is what draws a person in—right before the knife is inserted in one’s back.” He turned and faced the room. “In my opinion, I believe we must tread lightly and wisely when dealing with Mr. Grainger. His outward appearance displays a harmless and almost capricious demeanor, but …” He paused, not wanting to say too much.
George crossed over to the bar to stand next to Stefano and helped himself to a brandy too. “I have to agree with you, Son. There is a possibility this man might be hiding his true intentions.”
Jayson and Andra still sat side by side across the room. Jayson smiled and then nodded when Andra whispered into his ear. Agile, she rose to her feet.
“Well, I believe I’ll take my leave,” she said to everyone. “I’m going to explore the grounds for the first time and afterward head upstairs for a short nap.”
“Nothing is wrong, I hope,” George said, his mature features softening with worry.
Smiling, Andra shook her head at him. “Nope, I’m probably still recovering from jet and room lag. The exercise will do me good.” She strolled across the room, stopping inside the door’s threshold. “If my opinion counts for anything, I’m still with Jayson concerning Hog.”
Stefano tried not to appear too conspicuous in watching her body as it moved with panther-like grace across the sitting room’s floor, yet he couldn’t help but outwardly study her form as she stood by the door, magnificent in her unique beauty, while she waited for a reply from anyone willing to supply it.
Mute, he could only nod, while his father spoke out.
“Thank you, my dear. We will keep your opinion in mind,” George replied indulgently. “However, I fear between the four of us, we are divided when it comes to Mr. Harlan Grainger.”
Stefano watched her nod and then leave, closing the doors. The room magically transformed, becoming duller and dimmer—practically lifeless. He glanced over at his father, who sipped on his brandy as he too observed Andra’s exit. Once she had disappeared from sight, the elder’s countenance deflated a notch.