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Enzo's lips curved into his trademark, douchebag smirk. “Okay, Dorian. No need to get your panties in a bunch.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, which I immediately shook off. Unbothered, he added, “Know that I'm here for you if you want to talk about it.”
The elevator doors whizzed open, and I stepped out, already regretting my decision to go to lunch with him.
“So what did you do when you were in Vegas?” Enzo asked.
“I checked out a hotel whose owner wanted to open one of our restaurants.”
“And? Are we going to have a grand opening anytime soon?”
On the flight home, I sent an email to the owner of the Grapevine saying that I'd run the numbers, and unfortunately, it wasn't in the company's interest to enter into a partnership with his hotel at this time. In reality, I'd barely even glanced at the sheets he sent me. It was a wonder I remembered to respond at all.
“It wasn't a good fit,” I said.
I felt Enzo's side eye but blatantly ignored it.
“What a shame that you went all the way to Las Vegas to look at a hotel only to come back empty-handed.” He nudged me in the side with his elbow. “I know you must hate that.”
He was teasing me, referencing the fact that I was notorious for disliking what I called “timesuck ventures.” Usually, if I went to look into a potential project, the contract had already been all but written. I didn't like to waste my time.
“It is what it is, Enzo.”
“So it is.”
He whistled down the street the rest of the way to the restaurant. More than once, I nearly succumbed to the desire to knock his teeth out. Only the fact that my mom would be pissed at me kept me in check.
