"It's not mine to make."
"I disagree. You were being cowardly because you were putting the weight of it all on to me. Take a second and think about it."
He paused, frowned, then let out a heavy sigh.
"I understand why you might see it that way, but, Colleen, I can assure you, I'm no coward. I've jumped off the cliff more times than I care to count."
"Professionally, maybe."
"Why stupid?" he asked, not wanting to pursue her comment.
"The stupid part is assuming you can't have it all. You've built a huge business from scratch, and you're a force to be reckoned with, but you don't think you can handle a relationship with a woman if her company is under your umbrella. That's stupid."
Her enigmatic eyes filled with challenge. He knew she was waiting for a response, and for the first time in a very long time he was speechless. To his relief he spied their server pushing a trolley towards them.
"What's all this?" she asked as the waiter stopped at their table.
"Crepe Suzette," the waiter replied.
"How wonderful. It's one of my favorite desserts."
They sat in silence as the waiter began his performance. A few minutes later, when he placed the crepes on their dishes, Colleen took a bite and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, dear Lord. This is truly unbelievable."
"I'm glad it meets with your approval," the waiter said with a proud smile. "Let me know if you need anything else."
"I don't think it's being stupid," Tony declared as the server walked away. "It's being smart. Being involved and working together isn't a good idea."
"You might be right, but that doesn't mean it can't be done. I'm not even in your building. I work twenty minutes away, but hey, it's cool. You don't want to take the chance, don't take the chance."
"It's not about taking a chance. I take chances all day, every day."
"Only in business. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm not walking away from Allin Holdings, and not because of any choice you've asked me to make. First, with your help, and the help of the people around you, Kiss Me Cosmetics will land on its feet. Second, I have an obligation to the people who work for me. They've put their faith in me, and I have no intention of letting them down."
Tony's head was spinning. He still wasn't sure how their conversation had become so convoluted, and he was grateful she'd decided to leave things as they were. Had she thrown in the towel in order to go out with him, he would have felt all kinds of pressure, but a moment later he realized she'd once again accused him of being afraid.
"Hold on a minute. You're back to saying I'm too scared to go out with you."
"I suppose I am. Maybe you're not stupid after all. Maybe it's just the cowardly thing."
"The cowardly thing?" he growled, leaning over the table and glowering at her. "Stop with that absurd accusation."
"Tony, take a breath," she said calmly. "You look as if you're about to pop a vein. It's no big deal."
"Calling me a coward is a very big deal."
"Can we please just drop this? You don't want to cross a line and that's okay. I happen to think, given the situation, there's no reason we can't, but you've made your feelings very clear. I apologize for calling you a coward. It's probably unfair."
"Now you're patronizing me."
"For goodness sake. What's gotten into you? I thought you were the one who keeps emotion out of things."
She was right!
His reaction was completely out of character.
He reached for his champagne glass, but much to his annoyance it was empty, as was the bottle. Raising his hand he signaled the waiter.
"Yes, sir?"
"Your best whiskey on the rocks."
"Madame?"
"Coffee, please."
"Decaf or regular?"
"Regular."
"It doesn't keep you awake?" Tony asked as the waiter moved away.
"It does. That's why I've ordered it. I still have work waiting at home. I've almost finished naming the new lipsticks."
"I'd like to hear what you've come up with," he said, pleased to have something else to talk about besides his alleged stupidity and cowardice.
"Two new products lines, one for the daytime, called, Daring Daylight, and for the evening, Midnight Madness."
"Catchy, though Midnight Madness rings a bell. Keep going."
"The lipstick names. So far I have Luscious Lime, Cheeky Cherry, Orgasmic Orange, Amorous Apple, and Salacious Spearmint. That could also be Sexy Spearmint. If we want to push the envelope, Spanky Spearmint."
She was giving him an odd look, a look he couldn't read, but the waiter arrived with their drinks and her expression changed.
"I've brought you some whipped cream for your coffee," the server declared. "It's sweetened with maple syrup and spiced with cinnamon."
"That sounds divine. Thank you."
"You're most welcome."
Spooning in the gourmet cream, she slowly stirred, then lifted the cup to her lips.
"This is outstanding," she murmured, then raised her eyes. "So, Tony, what do you think?"
"Of the lipstick names? I think they're excellent."
"Which would you pick for the Spearmint?"
"Spanky Spearmint for sure. It will make the girls giggle. It's titillating."
"Spanky Spearmint it is."
"Colleen, are you ready to talk to me about the other thing?"
"Other thing?"
"You said you had something you wanted to tell me, or maybe to ask me."
"Not quite yet."
"Now I have a question for you."
"Okay, shoot."
"Why did you suggest this restaurant?"
"I thought you'd like it. It's cozy."
"Yes, it is."
"And the food is delicious."
"I agree."
"What are you trying to suggest?"
"It's very romantic."
"So is a flaming dessert."
"That's true, but it's not exactly the kind of place for a business dinner."
"You have a point. This place makes me feel soft and fuzzy. The dining room is hearts and flowers, not contracts and conference rooms. I love it, and what I said earlier is true. I am sorry we didn't meet outside the office, but I'm very happy for my company."
"My offer to bow out still stands," he said, lowering his voice.
"Wait," she said abruptly. "Did you think I'd be so overcome by your charm I'd surrender and say I want you and not the deal? Is that what this is about?"
"No," he said hastily, "and I'm shocked you think me capable of something like that."
"You're shocked? Seriously? You're Antony McIntyre, the young billionaire with a reputation for being ruthless, underhanded and absolutely brilliant. You're shocked I would think that?"
"I would never attempt to seduce a woman out of, or into a deal," he declared, glaring across at her. "If I wanted out, I'd get out, and I'd be using my lawyers, not champagne and Crepe Suzette."
"You've been giving me mixed messages from day one. I don't know what you're playing at, but I think it best you keep your distance. Have Kathy and James get in touch, but don't pull crap like this on me again. It's bullshit."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said earnestly as she rose to her feet. "How will you get home? At least let me—"
"There's this thing called a taxi," she replied sarcastically, picking up her coat from the seat of the chair next her to. "Thanks for a delicious meal."
Completely confounded, he watched her move swiftly through the dining room. His head was spinning, and picking up his whiskey he downed a large swallow.
"Women," he muttered. "I swear, they're all crazy."
Stepping outside, Colleen sucked in long deep breaths. The night air was cold, but it felt good, and pulling out her phone, she texted the company she used for trips to the airport. Not wanting to run the risk of seeing Tony again, she gave them the address of the department store across the stre
et, then hurrying across the road, she stood in the shadows of the covered doorway. She'd only been there a minute when she saw him exit the restaurant. He stood on the sidewalk, looked up and down the street, and threw his hands up in the air.
"Sorry, Tony," she mumbled. "Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy."
CHAPTER THREE
Tony didn't understand how the conversation had spun out of control, and he felt guilty that it had. Hurriedly paying the bill, he'd raced from the restaurant to chase her down, but she'd vanished. He felt like a complete moron, not to mention disappointed that the dinner had taken such a negative turn. Feeling restless and out of sorts he wasn't ready to go home, and climbing into the car he ordered the chauffeur to drive around the city. As he stared out the window at the dark empty streets, he let out a heavy sigh. It was true he was attracted to her, and it was also true he'd fantasized about returning to his house and devouring her body, but it had been a fantasy. It wasn't anything he'd intended to make happen.
"Shit. What the hell?" he muttered. "Did I give her mixed signals? Is she right? Can I have it all? Maybe I can. Shit."
He noticed they were passing the new pedestrian shopping mall. He was one of the investors, and he was encouraged by the size of the crowd milling through the arcade. It was a chilly night, and though they were dressed in heavy coats, hats and scarves, the mood appeared to be buoyant. To promote the opening the stores were staying open until midnight on Thursday and Friday nights, and a popular local rock band was entertaining the crowd.
"Driver, pull over. I'm going to check out the mall. I'll text you when I'm ready to leave."
"Yes, sir."
Realizing he was still wearing his tie, he pulled down the knot, lifted it over his head, and tossing it on the seat beside him, he undid the top button of his shirt. He immediately felt better. The driver had opened the door, and stepping out, Tony was hit by a blast of cold air.
"Don't you want your overcoat, sir? The temperature seems to have taken a dip."
"Actually, this feels great. I think I'll leave it."
"Very good, sir."
He began meandering through the mall, stopped for a few minutes to watch the band, then turned his attention to window shopping. He was studying a leather jacket when he spotted a brass plaque. At the bottom of a stairway adjacent to the clothing store, it read, THE CARAMEL APPLE. Piano Bar. Cocktails. Wine. Beer.
The thought of sitting at a bar was immensely appealing, and quickly striding up the stairs he pushed open the door. Decorated like a bar from the 1940s, he decided he'd found a new haunt. Ambling across to the bar, he settled on a stool and admired the huge art deco clock on the wall. The bartender, an extremely good-looking young man, greeted him with a dazzling smile. Tony was hit by a wave of nostalgia. He'd once been a bartender. He'd worked three jobs for almost two years, saving as much money as he could as he'd studied the stock market. When he'd finally found the courage to begin investing, in two short months he'd made a killing. He'd never looked back, but he carried fond memories of his time serving cocktails and meeting a variety of lovely ladies.
"What can I get you?"
"A clock that goes backwards."
"Ah. One of those nights. Are you here to see Jennifer?"
"Jennifer? Who's Jennifer?"
"Our resident psychic, but don't tell her I called her that."
"If she's a psychic, won't she know?"
"Good point," the bartender said with a chuckle. "I might be in trouble already."
"Drambuie on the rocks."
"Coming right up."
As Tony waited for his drink, he spotted a couple appearing from a doorway at the end of the bar. The woman's eyes were wide, and the man was shaking his head.
"How could she possibly know all that stuff?" the woman muttered as they walked past him.
"I don't know, but she's made a believer out of me. I'm so glad we went in. Let's sit down and have a drink."
"I need one after that."
Tony rolled his eyes. If they wanted to see psychics in action, they should just watch professional poker.
"Do you want to start a tab?" the bartender asked, snapping him from his thoughts.
"Yeah. I might be a while."
"That bad? I'm Scott, by the way."
"Hi, Scott. I'm Tony. It was more confusing than bad, though it was bad as well."
"And her name?"
"Colleen, and how did you know this has to do with a member of the opposite sex? Apparently you're a psychic too."
"I've been behind this bar long enough to read the signs. You really should see Jennifer. It won't cost you anything, and she's amazing."
"What do you mean, it won't cost me anything?"
"If you like her, tip her what you think she should get. If you think she's crap, you can just leave."
"Won't she put a curse on me if I do that?"
"You're a funny guy, Tony."
"I have my moments, though I don't feel particularly funny right now."
"Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"That depends what that something is."
"Have you spent a lot of money on this woman?"
"You could say that," Tony said grimly. "I helped her out of a difficult situation. Why do you ask?"
"What's a few more dollars, or potentially, no more dollars? Isn't it worth it to get some answers? You seem really frustrated."
"Do you have this conversation with everyone who sits at your bar?"
"Only if they're by themselves and have an expression on their face like yours. Jennifer's really good. I haven't had one complaint."
"Why do you want me to see her so badly?"
"Like I said, she's really good, and, uh, she's my girlfriend."
"AH, the truth comes out."
"I swear, you won't be disappointed."
"Isn't it awkward dating a girl who's knows what's going on in your head?"
"I sure as hell don't risk lying to her."
"Okay, Scott. Since she's your girlfriend I'll stick my head in. You're right, I have nothing to lose, She's lucky to have you out here pitching for her. Are you still in school?"
"Law, but doesn't the world already have too many lawyers?"
"If that's how you're thinking, then you already know the answer."
"Hah. That's what she said."
Taking another sip of his drink, Tony decided to take it with him, and moving past the bar he walked into the mysterious back room. The only light came from a hurricane lamp on a lone table. Next to the lamp was a deck of cards, and seated behind the table was a pretty young woman with blonde hair, wearing a pink shirt.
"Hi," she said, smiling up at him.
"Hi. I'm Tony."
He thought she had the nicest smile he'd seen in a very long time. It was warm and sincere, then he noticed her eyes. Soft brown and almond shaped. Scott was a lucky guy.
"Nice to meet you, Tony. I'm Jennifer. Are you having a tough time?"
"Is that what your psychic self is telling you?"
"No. That's usually the case with most people who come in this late, and I don't call myself a psychic."
"Oops, I wasn't supposed to say that. Did I get your boyfriend in trouble?"
"He's not my boyfriend," she said softly. "He only says that if he's sending a guy in here. He wants to protect me, though he does kind of like me."
"But you're not interested?"
"Not at all. He's very sweet, but…"
"But?"
"Aren't we supposed to be talking about you?"
"I promise we will if you answer the question," Tony said, finding himself fascinated by her.
"Let's just say he's not for me."
"Does your psychic self—sorry—does your inner voice tell you that?"
"Just like your inner voice tells you yes or no when you meet a woman. We can all sense things. You do it every day in your work. You're extremely intuitive."
"Huh. You're right, but not tonight," he said with a frown,
then taking a long swallow of his drink, he added, "I don't think I've ever been as confused as I was tonight."
"How can I help you?"
"I don't know. I've never done anything like this before."
"Ask me a question."
"Hmm. I don't know what that would be."
"Let's start a different way. May I have your hand?"
"Are you going to read my palm?"
"No, just let me hold it."
As she wrapped her fingers around his, he felt something. It was subtle, but it was there. Something sensuous and alluring. Her skin was soft and smooth, and he wanted to lift it to his lips and kiss it. He raised his eyes and discovered hers were closed. The room was quiet and still. The seconds ticked by, then she finally began to speak.
"This woman you were with tonight, her name begins with a K. No. My mistake. It sounds like a K, but it's a C."
Tony's heart skipped.
"She's smart," Jennifer continued, then slowly opened her eyes."Let's pull some cards."
Releasing his hand, she picked up the deck sitting next to the hurricane lamp, shuffled, then fanned it out face down.
"What do you want to know about this girl? Think about that as you select three."
"I think I need another drink," he mumbled, reaching for his glass. "You're impressing me already."
"Thank you, but it's not that difficult. I just know how to tune in. Focus on the deck."
"I assume these are Tarot Cards."
"They are, but they're more a means by which."
"A means by which?" he repeated, choosing three of them.
"Like holding your hand. That's called telemetry. It enables me to pick up your energy. The cards tell a story, but only if it's one I'm allowed to know," she replied, taking the cards he'd selected and flipping them over.
BOSS_His Wealth. His Power. His Demands. Page 3