“I like that idea. Where should we start?”
She thinks about it for a moment, then says, “Some are better than others. I think you’ll like the Castro.” She grins.
“What’s the Castro like?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
There’s a glint in her eyes, and I’m pretty sure she’s teasing me, only I don’t know the neighborhoods well enough to be sure. Picking up my phone, I google the Castro neighborhood. It’s where the heart of the gay movement started in San Francisco.
I look up and find her watching me carefully, clearly waiting for me to react. I debate on being direct and seeing if she tells me to go home or if I should play it low-key. I decide to go all in, leaning in and growling, “I’ll go wherever you want. Gay men don’t scare me, but I promise you, I’m all about pussy. I love to eat it, play with it and devour it.”
I swear she shivers before turning a nice shade of pink. I wonder how deep her pink goes as I take some pleasure in embarrassing her.
I saunter over to the turntable and put Stone Temple Pilots on, then join her at the table. She hasn’t moved an inch. “So, this is New York pizza?”
She clears her throat. “That’s what they tell us. I’ll let you be the judge as a real New Yorker.”
I take my first bite. There’s a good crunch and chewiness to the crust in all the right places, and it isn’t too doughy. The ingredients are outstanding—good Italian cheese, and they’ve paid attention to the right kind of tomatoes, plus I taste high-quality meats.
Cynthia has been watching me have my orgasmic experience with the pizza. I nod my approval as I eat. “It isn’t 100 percent New York, but it’s about as close as I’ve had since I left. Excellent.”
She cocks her head to the side as if she just hears the music playing. “You have the first pressing of Core? This is Stone Temple Pilots’ first album. I’m super impressed.”
My chest puffs out a little, the compliment meaning more to me than I ever expected. “I bought the album after I saw them open for Megadeath. I knew they had something.”
“Scott Weiland was amazing. So much theater in his performances. I can’t believe he died. What a waste of such monumental talent.”
I nod in agreement. “The pressure of fans, a bad heart, and cocaine became a lethal combination for him.”
Our discussion bounces from one music band to another. I want to stay and keep enjoying our conversation and the music, but her eyes are growing heavy. The album isn’t over, but I stand to leave.
“Please don’t go. I’m sorry I’m not great company. I got maybe two hours of sleep last night and had an interview that lasted seven hours.”
“You need some sleep. We can pick this up another night.”
She nods and walks me to the door. I wait to hear her lock it behind me before I turn to the elevator. We may have a doorman in our building, but I’ve always thought they provide a false sense of security.
Riding up on the elevator, I still smell her perfume; it makes my dick hard as I think about her. I replay the evening while I try to watch ESPN, unable to concentrate on the latest sports news. My thoughts are consumed by Cynthia: her long dark hair with blonde highlights, her big brown eyes, her perfect figure with tits that were definitely real when she pressed them against me, her heart-shaped ass. And I loved that, when I embarrassed her a little, she turned a great shade of pink.
Yes, she could be fun to get to know better.
Chapter EIGHT
Cynthia
I got seven hours of sleep and feel refreshed. The sun’s shining, and it must be a beautiful fall day. This is the perfect time to be in San Francisco. The days are warm, the sun shines all the time, and the evenings are cool. It’s days like today that keep me here.
After working out, I grab a rideshare to the office. It isn’t even 7:00 a.m. and Mason’s already in his office. I rush around to put some things away and start my computer. While it runs through all the start-up protocol, I grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen and walk into Mason’s office. “Hey, you have a minute?”
He looks up at me and smiles. “Of course. How was yesterday?”
“Challenging, to say the least.” I sit back in a chair and take a big gulp of coffee. The bitterness hits my tongue, and I can’t help but breathe in a nice sigh of relief. Caffeine. “I can’t tell you too much. However, I can assure you that the interview has nothing to do with SHN. As I said yesterday, it has to do with BrightStar. During my interview process, we knew BrightStar was closed, and there was a lot of ambiguity as to why.”
“I’ve seen profitable firms make great decisions that end up going south. No one knew any of the exact circumstances of the closure.”
“I can share with you what I learned yesterday. BrightStar was being monitored by the FBI, and after a whistleblower reported treasonous acts, they came in and closed them down.”
Visibly stunned by the revelation, he stutters, “T-t-treasonous acts?
“I can’t tell you too much at this point, but know that they’re interviewing me, and they don’t believe I was involved in any way, but they will at some point talk to you, Dillon, Mason, Sara, and Emerson since y’all interviewed and hired me. It’ll be a high-level interview, but it shouldn’t be anything else.”
“If you’re okay with it, I’d like to discuss it this week at the partners’ meeting at the Arnaults’ home. That way Charles, CeCe, and Trey will also be in attendance.”
“That’s fine with me. You can put me anywhere on the agenda.”
Sitting back in his chair, he asks, “What do you have going on today?”
“I have two meetings with two prospective companies. I’m also sitting down with Emerson and Greer to go over Oliver Software, our new purchase, so we can talk about some of the things to expect as they begin to grow.”
“Great, let me know if I can do anything to help.”
I’ve been dismissed.
Gathering my coffee, I return to my office. Distracted and unable to concentrate, I keep worrying that my previous life at BrightStar’s going to disrupt my life here at SHN.
Looking out my window between two tall buildings, I have a beautiful view of the Bay Bridge and Treasure Island. It’s surreal to watch the boats and barges pass under the bridge. Sometimes I have to pinch myself that I’m here.
I’m brought out of my reverie when my cell phone pings, signaling a text.
Todd: Did you get any sleep last night?
Me: I did. Sorry I wasn’t much fun.
Todd: That’s okay, you can make it up to me tonight. I have a work function. Any interest in joining me for a nice dinner at an expensive restaurant with a client and his wife?
Me: Free food and good company? Not a chance.
Me: Just teasing. I’m happy to help. What time?
Todd: About 6:00 downstairs in our lobby. A car will pick us up.
Me: How formal?
Todd: Business attire.
Me: See you at six.
I’ve flirted and he’s always flirted back, but he’s never made a move. Even after the pussy comment. I surmise that Todd’s only looking for a friend, and I need to try to not put much into what we might be or where this is going. I’m just going to enjoy spending time with him when he allows it. He has his pick of women; we’re only having some fun.
A moment later, my phone rings. It’s Dillon. “Hey, dude, what’s up?”
“Just checking in. I understand from Emerson that you’re meeting about our recent acquisition.”
“I am. Any insights you wish to share?”
“Benchmark was after this company hot and heavy. Make sure Oliver Peters listens to what Emerson’s suggesting. I think she’s right on when it comes to necessary changes in some of the upper management and the founder’s role in the company moving forward. As you talk to them, see if you agree with my thought that the founder should be more involved in guiding the technology. We then bring in a managing director slash CEO to take care of the day
-to-day role. I don’t get the impression that they’re prepared to move this to the next level, and with the current set-up, Cameron and I worry that the technology team’s close to walking.”
“Sure, not a problem. We’re meeting at one o’clock today. I’ll talk to Emerson before we walk in.”
“Cameron’s also had a piece of software come across his desk that he’d like you to take a look at. It’s something I think we would be interested in pursuing.”
“Sounds like I have a full day. I do have dinner plans, but I can cancel them if you think that’s a conflict. Or I can do what I was planning and then work most of the weekend.”
“No, you should be fine. Hot date?”
“Not at all. CeCe’s friend Todd moved into my building, and he has a work event and needed a date. Since he doesn’t know many people, I get to fill the role.”
“He’s a fun guy. I’ve played golf with him, and he’s a pretty good and honest player. That says a lot about someone.”
“He’s a nice guy. Like I said, he lives in my building, and he isn’t dating anyone, so I’m just a fill-in.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Have fun, and enjoy your evening. Keep me posted on what you think about my suggestions at Oliver Software.”
I hang up the phone and replay the end of the conversation. Todd and I have only hung out at home. He told me he wasn’t dating CeCe, but I should still check in with her and make sure that’s true. Maybe she can meet me for lunch today?
Me: You available for lunch today?
CeCe: I am. Everything okay?
Me: Everything’s fine. I want to run some things by you. You available for a quick bite before the crowds start? I have a meeting at 1.
CeCe: Sounds like a great idea. I can make 11:30 work. Let’s go to our regular place, Salad Greens in your building?
Me: Works for me. See you then.
It’s busy all morning, but I’m able to push through everything in preparation for my meeting with Emerson. I review our purchase plan and see the comments from the technology team, agreeing that the founder may be better suited to overseeing the technology and not running the company. He’s run through several executives and currently doesn’t have a strong team. I also recognize that Oliver Peters has a big ego and may not want to move into a technology-only role, so I begin to strategize how I can convince him to change his perspective.
Looking at the time, I discover I have five minutes to get downstairs. Thank goodness she was willing to go to lunch in my building. I try so hard not to be late, and CeCe’s always early.
I breeze in on time and spot CeCe studying her cell phone, waiting for my arrival. She spots me and stands. “Cynthia!” She gives me a hug and kisses both cheeks. “You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you. Are you ready for another round of Fashion Week?”
“I hope so. We’re finally catching up after Spring Fashion Week. I can’t believe the fall one is late next week.”
“When we talked about it when you got back, you thought it was a success. Now that it’s six months later, do you still think so?”
“Absolutely, but we’ll do a few things a bit differently this time.”
We pick up our salads and find our spot in the back of the restaurant before the lunch rush arrives. I chose a combination salad niçoise with a few added ingredients.
I love that CeCe chose a spinach salad with bacon dressing, goat cheese, candied pecans, chicken, and mandarin orange slices. She’s my kind of girl. Both salads look and taste super yummy.
We talk a few more minutes about Fashion Week and her plans. She then claps her hands unexpectedly. “Hey! I hear you have plans tonight with Todd.”
I try to hide the surprise on my face. “I do. We’re only friends. He lives in my building, and we ran into one another randomly. Are you okay with that? I don’t want to trespass on your relationship with him.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Not a chance. He’s all yours. He’s a great guy and really cute. There’s a reason I introduced you. He’s not my type.”
“So hot, successful, and sexy isn’t your type? We need to talk!”
She nods enthusiastically. “He’s certainly all those things, but someone else has my heart, and until I can shake it free, I’m not interested in anyone else. Go jump his bones. Greer’s cousin Vanessa heard he’s hung like a horse and a great lay. Go have fun!”
“You’re too much. If you’re okay that we develop a good friendship, I’m good with that.”
“Friendship? I introduced you to him with hopes that you two would be something more. Emerson, Sara, Greer, and Hadlee all hope it works out great, but if it doesn’t, don’t worry about it. He’s a good guy and new to town. He doesn’t know many people and is in need of some friends, and a nice girlfriend who isn’t going after him for his money.”
“As long as you’re good with it, I view him only as a friend. I don’t think he’s interested in much more. Did he tell you he bought in my building?”
“He did. Can you believe that? Talk about a small world.”
We spend the rest of lunch talking about all the things going on in our lives, finishing up in time for me to make it back for my one o’clock meeting with Emerson and the founder of Oliver Software. He was difficult to convince that he needed someone else to run his business, but Emerson was a pro and got him to agree.
My afternoon flies by, and before I realize it, it’s after five o’clock. I have less than an hour to run home and change. I quickly grab my computer and a few other things, then race out the door, waving goodbye to an almost empty office. It’s amazing to me how quick people leave on Friday afternoons.
I have a nice basic black dress that I can pair with three-inch Jimmy Choo sandals for tonight. Todd’s tall, and I need as much height as I can get as I stand next to him. I used to hate when guys would use my head as an armrest and think they were funny.
Rolling my hair in hot rollers adds a curl and bounce. I arrange my hair in nice cascading curls and have enough time to create a smoky eye before I head out the door. I take a few breaths while waiting for the elevator to calm myself.
When it pings and the doors open, Todd’s leaning back against the wall with his feet crossed at the ankle and his head down, staring at his phone. I pull in a sharp intake of breath as I look at him. He’s so handsome in his charcoal-gray suit, a crisp white shirt, and a light blue tie.
Looking up at me, he whistles. “You look beautiful.”
Normally that would upset me if some guy in an elevator treated me like that, but instead, my stomach tightens and my heart beats faster.
“Thank you.” We walk outside to the waiting limousine, his hand on the small of my back, the touch sending jolts of electricity right to my core. I’m not sure if the goose bumps appear because of the chill in the night air or his touch, but I slip my pastel green pashmina over my shoulders. I didn’t even ask what the plan for dinner is. I may need more than a wrap. “Are we going to an indoor event?”
“My client has reserved a private dining room at Quince. Have you ever been there before? I’ve heard good things about it.”
As San Francisco’s only Michelin 3-star restaurant, I know it well. “It’s one of CeCe’s favorite places, mostly because of the privacy it offers. Well, that and the amazing food.”
“I can understand her desire for privacy. She and her brother are darlings of the paparazzi. She doesn’t let people into her inner circle easily, and I appreciate her desire to be cautious of new people. As for tonight, it may be my client and his wife, or maybe my client and nine other people from his team. I appreciate your flexibility. And I’m grateful I didn’t have to bring my buddy from work.”
Laughing, I tease, “That’s very acceptable here in San Francisco. But tell me about your client.”
“His great-grandfather was an oil baron, and he inherited his money. His current passion is investing in medical technologies, and we have a client who’s looking to
build on something they’re doing already and may be looking for an investment.”
“I understand. Would he be the sole investor? What percentage of return can he expect?”
“Of course, I had to bring somebody who knows as much if not more about funding than I do.”
I laugh hard at the predicament he’s created for himself. In a deep southern drawl, I share, “I promise not to show you up.”
We pull up outside of the building, and the valet opens the car door. When we enter the restaurant, Todd gives them his name, and we’re escorted back to the private dining room. A tall Eurasian man stands to greet us with his statuesque, blonde, beautiful wife.
Todd introduces us. “William, this is Cynthia Hathaway.”
William kisses the top of my hand, and it’s almost swoon-worthy. “So wonderful to meet you, Cynthia.” Turning to his wife, he continues, “Todd and Cynthia, please meet my better half, Gabrielle.”
She smiles broadly and conspiratorially shares, “Todd, thank you for bringing a date. These business meetings can be so boring.”
The four of us sit down at a beautifully set table, and the waiter rushes over to offer us still or bubbly water while placing our napkins on our laps.
Gabrielle leans in. “It’s so nice to meet you, Cynthia. How did you meet Todd?”
I smile and look at him. “We were introduced by a mutual friend, Caroline Arnault.”
“You both know Caroline?”
“Yes,” Todd volunteers. “Cynthia went to grad school with her, and Angus Morgan’s wife worked with Caroline at Fashion Week.” He looks at me with a level of affection that both shocks me and sends my heart racing. “I guess we can say that she was playing a bit of matchmaker when she introduced us.”
“Please tell her the next time you see her that I’m a huge fan of her cosmetic company, Metro Composition, and I love that she donates a portion of her profits to women’s organizations. I’m on the board of a women’s shelter here in the city, and they give us a generous endowment each year. We’d be lost without Metro.”
Obsession: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #5) A Billionaire Russian Mob Romance Page 5