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Would I have really done the things I said while I had her backed against the wall? Kneeled before her and helped her into her panties and dress.
Stop thinking about her, Franco. Or you’ll end up with blue balls.
Saro’s heavy hand landed on my shoulder, bringing me back from my thoughts.
“I’ll instruct the chef to bring out the main course.”
I nodded and unbuttoned my blazer as I sauntered deeper into the dining room. A bronze-colored tablecloth covered the long mahogany table that seated twenty. An enormous round crystal chandelier hung above. The bright light drew attention to the gold place settings. I sank into the tall gold high back leather chair fit for a king. It felt like I sat on a throne. Actually, I did. I controlled Portland’s underworld.
“I’m ready to eat,” Kennedy stated from the dining room threshold.
The silver beaded cocktail dress that graced her stunning curves sparkled in the light.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Kennedy was breathtaking.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Franco.”
Hopping to my feet, I stalked toward her and took her hand in mine. A shiver struck her body from our touch. I led her to the chair caddy corner to mine, released her fingers, and waited for her to sit.
“Thanks for joining me for dinner.” I pushed her chair closer to the table.
“You’re welcome.”
“What’s for dinner?” she asked.
I sat in my chair and picked up a bottle of red wine, then poured a generous amount into our glasses. “Filet mignon, roasted potatoes, asparagus, and buttered rolls.”
“The roasted potatoes, asparagus, and the buttered rolls sound good. I don’t eat red meat.”
Why didn’t I ask Kennedy what kind of food she liked? Because you didn’t want her to read into the question and think that you care.
“What types of food do you eat?”
See, you care.
Kennedy held the glass of wine close to her pouty lips. “Chicken, vegan meals, all pasta dishes, casseroles, cheddar broccoli soup, and green smoothies. Just to name a few things.” She shrugged, then sipped the wine. “What do you like to eat? Or are you strictly a red meat kind of man?”
I chuckled before gulping half the contents in my glass.
Bonnie appeared. I wondered where she disappeared to.
“Boss, here’s a glass of whiskey.”
“Thank you, Bonnie.”
“Kennedy, can I get you something to drink?”
“Yes, I’d like a Bacardi Limon with sprite.”
Bonnie smiled. “That’s one of my favorite drinks.”
“I love the smooth taste. And it packs a nice punch,” Kennedy laughed.
“It does,” Bonnie confirmed. “I’ll be right back.”
