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“Yes?” She holds her tablet and stylus, ready to make a change to the calendar.
“I’d like you to join me for lunch today.” With eyes like a hawk, I wait for her reaction. I’m not disappointed.
Miriam’s chin jerks up, her hazel eyes widen in surprise, and her cheeks flush. “Me?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “But you already have a lunch meeting scheduled.”
“And I’d like you to be a part of it.”
She double checks the calendar. “You want me to have lunch with you, Maximillian Hawthorne, Losev Turgenev, and Andrej Novak,” she says flatly. “Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m not kidding. We’re considering working on a project together. We’ll be discussing it today at lunch. I think you could provide some valuable contributions. I’m aware that you’ve had a meeting with Michael Nelson. I’d like the chance to show you what kind of opportunities I can offer.”
“Mr. Gallagher—”
“Call me Drake,” I interrupt.
“Drake, then.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re having lunch with the Oakwood Boys. They’re the biggest business moguls in the city. I’ve never even been introduced to them. Are you sure it’s a good idea for me to be there?”
“Of course it’s a good idea. It’s my idea, isn’t it?” I can’t hold back my grin any longer. The way she’s huffing in her sweater makes me want to rip it off her and see how many ways I can make her pant.
“Miriam. This is primarily a brainstorming session. Just getting the ideas out,” I interrupt. “You are smart, ambitious, and creative. Of course you deserve to be there.”
She takes a deep breath, shoulders straightening. “Thank you, Mr. Gall—”
“Drake.”
“Thank you, Drake. What time should I be ready?”
“I’ll come by your office at eleven thirty.”
???
Walking into Le Clocher with Miriam at my side feels as right as any investment I’ve ever made. She’s classy, beautiful, and I’m looking forward to showing her off to my friends.
The restaurant is dark but warm, with twinkling lights lining the walls and windows, and a lot of hanging plants creating the illusion of an outdoor space. The host leads us to a private booth near a window. My friends are already seated, but they stand up when they see that I’ve brought a guest.
“Gentlemen, this is Miriam Delgado. I hope you don’t mind, I invited her to join us. Miriam, this is Losev, Max, and Andrej.”
We finish the introductions and exchange pleasantries, then sit down. My friends chat amongst themselves for a moment while Miriam peruses the menu.
“Would you like me to order for you?” I lean over and whisper in her ear. The poor girl probably doesn’t understand what she’s reading. The entire menu is in French.
“Oh. No, thank you,” she says as her gaze skims over the entrees. When the server comes to take our orders a few minutes later, I’m ready to jump in to help.
“Madam,” he addresses Miriam first.
“She’ll have the—”
“Ahem,” she interrupts, drawing the attention of my friends. “Je voudrais le bouchée à la reine, s'il vous plaît,” she orders in perfect French.
When the server turns to me, it takes me a moment to collect myself. My friends chuckle as I place my order with my terrible French. Here, I thought I would impress her, and instead I’m the one being schooled.
“I didn’t know you spoke French,” I say quietly.
“You should,” she replies tartly. “It was on my resume.”
Hiding a grin, I lean back into my seat. Little does she know, her intelligence is a huge turn on. Every time I see a new side of Miriam, I want her a little more.
Once everyone has placed their order, we begin the discussion on our project, a new skyscraper going up downtown called Center City. It will be the biggest, most ambitious project any of us have taken on yet.
