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With my business plan in hand, I walk into my father’s officebut stop short and slow my steps when I hear his voice. He’s sitting behind his large ornate desk with his back turned to me, talking to someone on the phone. He turns when he hears me enter and motions for me to take a seat. I have no idea why I am so nervous. He has loved all of the ideas I’ve subtly slid into conversation so far, and this is just all those ideas combined and written out on a couple of sheets of paper.
He finishes his conversation and gives me a small smile. I love that no matter how great, powerful, and maybe even scary he seems to everyone else, to me, he is justDad. His face always softens when he looks at me. He replaces the receiver on his desk phone and greets me.
“That was Blaze. I was briefing him on your dinner meeting tomorrow night. Now, good morning, or should I say good afternoon?” he says, looking at his watch.
“Yeah, afternoon. I’m pretty exhausted,” I reply, embarrassed about sleeping in so late.
“What can I do for you,Bella?”
“So, you know how I just finished my degree in business management?” I fidget with the business plan in my hands. He nods slowly, eyes narrowing, but doesn’t say anything.
“I know you want me to help out with the three clubs you already have…” I gulp, “… but I have been working on a business plan. I’m hoping to maybe open one of my own with a little bit of your help.” I give him a smile and hand him my business plan.
He takes the paperwork from me and reads it, nodding now and again. After some time, he asks, “Have you found a location yet?”
“No, I haven’t really been looking. I only want somewhere small as it’s going to be an exclusive bar.”
“Okay, well, you better get onto it then,” he says, dropping the plan on his desk.
“You like it? So that’s a yes?” I ask, surprised.
“I’m not keen on the name of the establishment.” He gives a slight frown. “But I like your idea of interior design. All deep reds and black, accents of gold and mood lighting.”
“Do you see that rather than having a DJ, I’ll be getting in live music but nothing grungy. More like sexier soul and pop, real sensual alternate-type music. I already have a list of artists I’d like to contact as our first few features,” I say, getting a little excited that my goals are more within reach now.
“I did. But, Lake, the name. I highly suggest you change it. What if it gets linked back to me and, in turn, you?” he says with slight concern in his voice.
“The Speakeasy Lake?” I ask. “There’s no tangible way it would be traced back to us personally. You’ve pretty much kept my name and our connection silent. I mean, if they heard the name Morelli, they might be able to put two and two together,” I try to reassure him. “Think Lake as more a watering hole.”
“Why can’t it be called that then?” he questions.
I scoff and give a little laugh. “The Speakeasy Watering Hole?”
“You’re right, that sounds ridiculous.” He chuckles. “Okay, I trust you. So long as you’re sure, but I really do think you should reconsider the name,” he adds.
“Of course. Thanks, Dad,” I say, rounding the desk to kiss him on the cheek.
The rest of my day is spent on a natural high, floating around the house with thoughts of what needs to be done to set everything into motion racing through my head.
Wishing I had Blaze’s number to share my exciting news, I pull out my cell from my back pocket, willing that his number has somehow miraculously appeared in it. Before I can unlock my cell, I notice a weird green notification light on the front, like I’m in the middle of a video call. It’s the second time I’ve seen it, the first being when Blaze brought my cell up to me after the club.
Strange.
I unlock my cell phone to check if I accidentally butt-dialed someone, but there is no active call. Passing it off as an update, I put my phone down on my desk and get to searching for the perfect space for my speakeasy.
Chapter Thirteen
Lake
The red satin dress I thought about wearing to the nightclub is perfect for our dinner meeting tonight. I finish my outfit with a pair of red-soled black heels and a face full of subtle makeup.
Dimitri and Vlad Orlov need to believe I’m Blaze’s girlfriend, not a two-bit hooker.
Although they might still think that if they find out I decided to go pantyless. What’s a girl to do when she doesn’t like wearing underwear unless it is absolutely necessary? No one will know. I run a hair straightener over my already straight hair, making it sleek and neat—very much unlike the just-got-out-of-bed look I usually sport.
I make my way downstairs while slipping on the diamond earrings Dad got me for my eighteenth birthday. Dad is talking to Blaze about the meeting over an amber-colored drink. I take in all that is Blaze right now and what a sight he is. He looks so suave in black dress pants that hug his ass just right and a long-sleeve, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing solid forearms that are made for throwing me around the bedroom. They both look up as I enter the room, not saying anything for a few seconds.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Lake.” Blaze breaks the silence.
