Page 15 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
“I’m fine,” she says coldly, keeping her eyes on her fingers.
“You sure? Because you look nervous,” I reply, pushing my locs over my shoulder and sitting up straight. “Everybody in here looks like they're awaiting sentencing.”
Sierra sweeps her flowing black hair out of her face so she can look around the table. She sees the same thing I do. They’re all on edge. Even Simon looks timid, staring at the same spot on the table in his white button-up covered with a navy blue vest. He is the one who is usually most confident, depending on his ability to brown nose to keep him ahead of the pack.
“Everyone will be fine,” Sierra says. “I just … he … he’s intense and difficult to read. That’s all.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I reply. “What is it about him that’s so appealing and terrifying at the same time?”
Sierra whips her head over to me. “You find himappealing?”
“Don't you?”
We lock eyes briefly, and I see something in hers that knits my brows together. In her glare, there is an intensity that’s brand new. She looked anxious before, but what I see now is not anxiety. It looks a lot more like resentment.
The door swings open, cutting off our little staring contest and drawing our eyes over to Mr. Giovanni as he calmly strides in wearing black slacks and a white button-up of his own. Unlike Simon, he isn’t covering his with a vest. Mr. Giovanni’s highest two buttons are undone, exposing the top of a chiseled chest that has clearly been built by extensive exercise. His sleeves are rolled up to just below his elbow, and I find myself staring at his forearms as he walks in and grabs the chair at the head of the table. Veins pop through his skin and travel from the top of his forearm down to his wrist like a river displayed on a map. It takes real effort to pull my gaze away, only to slowly look up at his face and see his strong jaw and beard pointed right at me. My eyes continue to climb up his face until the moment our eyesmeet just as he sits down. It’s like he’s peering into my soul as he settles into the chair.
“Buongiorno,” he says.
Fuck.
“Good morning, Mr. Giovanni,” Sierra replies after clearing her throat, greeting him for all of us.
He glances at her very briefly before looking around the room. Each person stiffens and sits up straight when his gaze reaches them.
“This morning, I want to talk about the future,” he finally says. “As I promised yesterday, I spent the evening combing through our contracts, client list, and finances. I’m happy to say that Sandcastle does operate in the positive. We do make a profit. However, as I sifted through our client list, I was not impressed by what I saw. We have tons of contracts with small-time businesses and entities, but nothing that stood out as a landmark contract. So, I will pose my question to you all, the true operators of Sandcastle. Why are we so small? Why do we do business with small-time companies and never make a big splash?”
All eyes turn to Sierra, who swallows hard as her brow furrows.
“Well …” she clears her throat, “Mr. Thomas thought it was important that we continue to partner with local companies to boost the South Philly economy and community. He believed that if we brought in enough clients, then it wouldn't matter how small the contracts were. He would rather have a lot of smaller, local businesses on board than a handful of out-of-town-ones.”
Mr. Giovanni sighs, his eyes falling to the table. “Larry did business that way because it kept the eyes of law enforcement off of him. Smaller businesses are under less scrutiny. It allowed him to launder money through Sandcastle while he gambled and got into debt with the casinos and loan sharks in Center City. Itsounds nice to only want to work locally, but how good is it for the local community if the money they spend ends up in a casino in the middle of Philly anyway?”
“Mr. Giovanni,” Sierra begins again, straightening her spine for a fight, but he cuts her off.
“Stop calling me Mr. Giovanni,” he snips. “My name is Rome. Please address me as such.”
Sierra pauses as if she’s worried she is being tested. Mr. Thomas always wanted to be called by his last name. He saw it as a sign of respect for someone his age, but Sierra is forty-one to Mr. Giovanni’s thirty-five.
“Okay. Umm, Rome,” Sierra corrects herself, her face unsure of whether to smile or frown, “Mr. Thom … Larry …Mr. Thomasbelieved in supporting the local community.”
“He believed in supporting his gambling addiction,” he fires back without hesitation or the slightest bit of emotion. “As a result, Sandcastle barely makes a profit, while Bell Liberty makes more money and attracts top tier clientele. Are you all aware that they landed Nasir Booker?”
“The romance author?” Simon asks, finally pulling some attention away from Sierra, who looks like the pressure of Rome’s inquiry has her ready to run out of the room.
“Yes,” Mr. Giovanni replies sharply. “The New York Times bestselling author, who travels around the world for the promotion of his novels. All of his advertising in Philly and the entire Delmarva area is controlled by Bell Liberty, our direct rival. That doesn't bother any of you?”
Mr. Giovanni goes around the room, locking eyes with everyone, but no one speaks up. More than likely, no one even thought about the competition. If Mr. Thomas didn't make it a point to bring up who the company was competing with, nobody else was going to.
“I have a proposal,” Mr. Giovanni says, not waiting for an answer. “The way Larry wanted to do business has departed with him. He will not return, nor will his way of thinking or his business practices. From now on, Sandcastle will look to rival every company in the industry, especially those on the east coast. We need something new. Something fresh and exciting that shows the clients who haven't already left us by the wayside—thanks to Larry—that we are primed for business and ready to work with major companies who have big pockets. We are no longer in the little leagues, and our next client will have to be big enough to prove that we were not crippled by Larry’s departure.”
Sierra lets out a long breath before asking, “What did you have in mind?”
“There’s a casino coming,” he starts, which immediately makes Sierra’s eyes widen. “It’s called Golden Diamond, and it is scheduled to start construction very soon. This casino is more than just a casino. It’s a hotel, a nightclub, and a venue for concerts, comedy specials, and even musicals. Golden Diamond will invigorate the economy for all of Philadelphia, not just South Philly, and whoever picks them up as a client will have work forever, a flagship deal that will be a beacon for companies looking to expand, and a massive payday big enough to provide bonuses to every employee just in time for the holidays.”
At the mention of money, everyone’s eyes double in size. Silence envelopes the room as people’s faces change. It’s not that any of us were hurting, but there isn't a person in this world that is going to turn down a raise. Mr. Giovanni may be as cold as ice, but he’s clearly smart. He knows how to motivate people, because the tide is already turning in his favor.
“That’s an interesting idea,” Sierra says. “But if I’m not mistaken, that casino is owned by an even more interesting person.”
