Page 13 of Players Like Us
Stay cool. Don’t let him see he’s gotten to you. Rachel didn’t want or need this man’s opinion, but apparently Dominic thought she did. Perhaps a soft attempt to get rid of him would work. “I appreciate your confidence in Neal but do you think he’s best suited for such an important decision? A customer isn’t the same as being an owner.”
Dominic coughed, cleared his throat, and shot a glance at the man in question. “True, but he hasn’t led me down a wrong path yet. Neal has a sense about people and situations. Like I said before, don’t be fooled by the easygoing manner and the smile.”
Fooled? Doubtful. Why did this man have to be more obnoxious and irritating than he’d been in high school? More handsome, too. She took in the straight nose and firm jaw, the tussle of black hair, the full lips. And those darned eyes that could pull a person in and make her forget every reason she shouldn’t trust him or believe his sugar-coated words. Rachel heaved a sigh, realized she’d have to tolerate the man because Dominic wanted him involved. Of course, she’d do it because she wanted this opportunity, even if it meant suffering through an overblown ego, sarcastic comments, and self-centered behavior. No matter what happened, she’d always be grateful for the introduction, and for Simon Bainbridge’s part in it. While he hadn’t straight-out admitted he’d contacted Dominic, he hadn’t denied it either, which meant he was behind it.
What an honorable man. He didn’t want her to feel beholden to him, and yet he’d wanted to help her. She glanced at the man seated across from her, caught him staring. Neal Alexander might not be her favorite person, but she needed him to approve of her work so she could get this opportunity. If this one didn’t work out, maybe Simon could broker another meeting with someone else...
“How about we get started?”
Someone who didn’t rely on Neal Alexander’s opinion. “Sure. Great.”
“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.” His gaze slid to the portfolio and she didn’t miss the curiosity in his words.
She stifled a sigh, eased the portfolio toward him and began to explain her work and the rationale behind her choices. He shook his head when he didn’t care for something, pointed to designs he liked, rubbed his temple, nodded. Partway through, the man borrowed her pencil and the notebook she’d been jotting in and sketched a few of his own ideas. Darn, but they were decent, too. Better than decent.
When he’d seen the entire portfolio, he placed her pencil on the table and leaned back against the booth cushion. “You’ve got some good ideas here, but I think you need to visit a few other restaurants to get a feel for how they capture the light and create a more intimate environment.” He pointed toward the center of the room. “This place is missing something, and I’ll call it an ‘identity’ for lack of a better term. It needs an intimate feel that welcomes its patrons to share a meal, friendship, maybe even romance, and it requires follow through from the tablecloths to the shape of a wine glass...even the selection of music and window coverings.”
“Friendship...romance...intimacy...” He did have a point. Matilda’s décor was a haphazard collection of high-end chic, but none of it went together. The place needed continuity and a path that led to a common theme—intimacy.
“I think we should check out a restaurant or two, see what they offer and how we could incorporate that ‘feel’ into Matilda’s.” His blue eyes sparked with excitement. “It’s definitely a feel, and once you experience it, you might come up with a few ideas on how to harness it.”
Did that mean she and Neal Alexander would try out a few restaurants and then she’d work up a proposal for Matilda’s? Shouldn’t Dominic be suggesting that? Maybe this man had more pull with Dominic Lombardi than she thought. Or was he just talking and trying to convince her he had more pull? With a man like him, you could never tell.
“So? What do you think, Rachel?”
She blinked, tried to determine what he was asking. “Umm...I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
His laughter spilled across the table, clung to her. “I’m asking if you’d like to accompany me on a mini restaurant tour? Gather information, assess, and analyze what works and what doesn’t? Is the theme streamlined or disjointed?” His voice turned soft, mesmerizing. “Most of all, does it work? If Matilda’s is going after an intimate feel, then it’s got to achieve that vibe before a customer opens the door.” A nod, an excited “It’s got to be evident in the advertising, the logo, the sign outside...even the choice of font and color. It’s all relevant.” He leaned forward, planted his elbows on the table. “It all matters.”
She’d never thought him capable of such passion or interest unless it had to do with fun or a woman. But that wasn’t really fair, because she’d only guessed and gone on hearsay and these last several years had all been hearsay. What did she really know about the man other than what she surmised, what others guessed, and what he showed people?
Not much.
And that made him more unpredictable. Less trustworthy.
“So, do you want to go? I thought we’d try Calvin’s Chop House first? Say tonight at 7:00 p.m.”
“Calvin’s Chop House? Tonight?” The place had a three-week wait. Did he think she didn’t know that? “Funny.”
He raised a brow. “What? You aren’t interested?”
Big sigh. “Of course I’m interested. Who wouldn’t be? The place is supposed to have a waterfall, a fresh-water aquarium, and the best seafood and steaks in the city. I’ve even heard...” She clamped her mouth shut before she gushed about the orchids and the blown-glass displays.
Of course, he guessed what she’d been about to say. “The orchids are rather impressive, but the blown glass is stunning.”
It didn’t surprise her that he’d been there, but she hadn’t expected him to notice the décor and certainly not in such detail. “Anyway, the wait is ridiculous and it’s impossible to get in.”
He ignored the comment. “But would you go if say, I got lucky and could nab a reservation for tonight?”
She doubted even Neal Alexander could sweet-talk his way into a reservation at this place. “Sure. If you can get one, I’ll go.” Pause and a clarification “For research purposes.”
Those blue eyes sparked, slid to her lips seconds before he said, “For research purposes.” And then, he smiled. “I’ll pick you up at 6:40 p.m. Don’t be late. Fernando gets cranky if he has to hold my table.”
9
Neal should have kept his mouth shut about trying out local cuisine and measuring the competition. Why had he gone and done something so foolish? A trip to the famed Calvin’s Chop House meant time alone with Rachel looking beautiful and elegant in a red halter dress, auburn hair twisted into a chignon, gold earrings dangling against her neck. Such a slender neck...flawless...definitely kissable...
Why had he not kept the meetings to a business environment where upscale restaurants and halter dresses were not involved? The woman had started to occupy too much of his time and his brain space and he didn’t like it. She was intriguing—he’d give her that—and she really didn’t seem to be in awe of him, which given their history in the back seat of his car was interesting. Maybe she hadn’t even liked him back then, maybe she’d just wanted to borrow his expertise in a particular area a.k.a. sex. And maybe—
