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I was going to fire my nutritionist.
“Nuni?” Felik’s voice jerked my head up. “You had some, right? Sorry about him,” he added to the two women with a chuckle. “Had an important meeting right before this, so that big brain is probably just… overflowing with ideas.”
He gripped my shoulder again, giving it an even harder squeeze. “Right, buddy?”
I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat. “Right. Uh… ideas. Yeah.”
Thank fuck I’d written them down, because my mind had gone weirdly blank for some reason. After unlocking my tablet, I slid it across so Corva and Anita could read the list. My claws drummed restlessly on the table as they bent their heads over the screen.
“A string quartet,” Corva said with an approving nod, jotting something down in her planner. “I like that.”
“We want it to be classy but understated.” I smoothed a hand down my tie, leaning back in my seat. “That’s what people expect from Rorik + Stimis.”
“Piquante to cater.” Anita made a note on her tablet, then said to Corva, “The annual Mother Mila Foundation fundraiser has been postponed, so they should be free on the date. I’ll call them in the morning.”
“Thanks, darling,” Corva said absently, back to reading the list. “Sir Vili var Hynt to speak,” she read out, referring to the world-renowned architect. “That might be difficult. I thought he sold his pied-à-terre in the city.”
“He did,” Felik jumped in, “but only because he retired to Lagos. Does far less travelling now. He was sad to let the property go.” With a chuckle, he smacked my arm with the back of his hand. “We designed it, so no surprise there.”
“He’s an old friend,” I added smoothly. “We’ll get him.”
Corva nodded, taking more notes. Against my will, my gaze flitted over to Anita again in time to see her appraising me with a cocked brow. She looked back down at the tablet as my ears gave a weak flutter.
“Flaming shots,” she read out in a carefully emotionless voice.
My ears went wild.
“That was Felik’s idea,” I blurted, not feeling even a hint of guilt for throwing him under the bus. “We were just… We were spitballing. No, uh, no bad ideas and all that.”
“Well, we want it to be memorable, right?” Felik drawled with a shrug, shooting Corva a crooked grin as she looked up with a politely blank expression.
She and Anita exchanged a silent look, making me want to squirm in my seat. I scowled furtively at Felik. Why the fuck had I written down flaming shots? Okay, fine, when he suggested it I’d been all in—we’d high-fived over the idea and I may have called him a genius—but now I felt kind of stupid, and I fucking hated feeling stupid.
I was a smart, successful, wildly handsome businessman, god-fucking-damnit! I was Nuni var Rorik, and if I wanted flaming shots at my classy event, well, I’d get motherfucking flaming shots.
“We’ll look into it,” Anita told me in a polite voice, but as she bent her head to make a note on her tablet, I noticed her pursing her lips to fight off a smile.
My ears fluttered again, stomach churning as I watched her long, thin fingers tapping efficiently over her tablet screen.
I was definitely firing my fucking nutritionist.
Chapter Two
Anita
A s I hung up my phone, I heard a loud, dramatic sigh a second before a familiar brown leather satchel plopped onto the desk
beside me.
“Let me guess.” Hustin set down his takeout cup and a paper bag from the coffee place up the street. “You’ve already done a five-mile run, repainted your living room on a whim, and ticked about ten things off your work list for today despite it only just being nine.”
My mouth quirked as I sat back and spun my chair to face him. “It was pilates this morning. And I repainted the bathroom, not the living room,” I teased.
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d hate you for making me look bad by comparison.” After hanging his jacket on the back of his chair, he dropped down with a sigh and reached for the paper bag. “How was the meeting last night?”
“Not bad.” I fiddled with the pen in my hand. “They had some, uh… interesting ideas for the event.”
Flaming shots. My mouth twitched in amusement.
