Page 14 of Besties
“Mr. Ryland, how did your friend like the apartment?”
“Please, call me Richie.” He turned and nudged me. “What did you think?”
“It’s… it’s incredible.”
She beamed. “Do you think you’d like to live here at The Riverfront?”
“He’s definitely thinking about it.” Richie leaned closer to her. “We’re going to be discussing it tonight at dinner. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and let you know what he says, if that’s okay.”
She bit her ruby red lips, obviously entranced by Richie’s presence. “That’s fine. Let me give you my number.”
She fished a business card from her jacket pocket and held it out in a trembling hand. I wanted to smack it away and tell her Richie didn’t need her number, but what right did I have to be jealous?
“I’ll be sure to give you a call.” His voice was husky, his smile showing all his pearly white teeth. “I may even call you tonight, assuming we get things settled. Will that be okay?”
“Sure,” she whispered, almost breathless, while she raked her baby-blue gaze over Richie’s body. Could either of them be any more obvious?
“I’ll wait downstairs.” Without seeing if anyone replied, I got on the elevator and went down to the lobby. A few minutes later, Richie came down and met me by the door.
“You like this place, right?”
I wanted to say no, it sucked, but I couldn’t be petulant. I had no claim on Richie, other than our friendship. “Sure, it’s great.”
“Awesome. Come on, let’s go to dinner and then we’ll talk.”
He led us out to where we parked the car.
“I still can’t believe the concierge arranged for a car.”
Richie gave a knowing nod. “There’s very little Peter can’t accomplish. It’s why he’s a fixture at the hotel. He also got us reservations at Bacchus, which he says is nice.”
“Nice?” Hell, that didn’t even begin to describe the restaurant. Jesse had said he’d been there once, and the place was extravagant and would cost an arm and a leg to eat in. When I asked why he’d been there, he changed the subject.
“Well, that’s what Peter said. I guess we’ll be the judges of it, though.”
He put the car in gear and we headed toward the lake.
“I don’t know about this.”
“What’s to know? We’ll go sit down in a nice place, have some dinner, share a bottle of wine, and talk about you working for us.”
“I don’t even understand why you’d want me.”
Richie sighed. “I told you. I need someone organized and motivated. You’re both. Or are you telling me you can’t do the job?”
“I didn’t say that.” I had the skills, I’m sure, but…. “And since when do you have employees?”
He chuckled. “Like I said, apparently there are things about me you obviously don’t know.”
He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, and my heart thumped faster. Richie had always seemed like he knew his place in the world—bold, confident—but the man sitting beside me was on a whole new level.
Richie got out of the car, rushed over, opened my door, and held it while I got out. Then he closed and locked the doors, put a hand on my lower back, and guided me to the door. When we entered, a man met us with a polite nod.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Do you have reservations?”
“We do. Under Ryland.”
He scanned his board. “Ah, Mr. Ryland. Your table is waiting. Please follow me.”
