Ringing in Love (6 page)

“It's just prosecco, Catherine. No magic potion; no drugs.” He raised his glass, touched it to hers, and said, “
Salute
. To getting to know each other better.”

She watched him sip from the glass for a few seconds before drinking from hers and finally relaxing back against the soft leather seat. “Okay, I guess I might as well play your game. I seem to be stuck with you for the afternoon.”

Jack muffled another laugh.

“Be quiet, Jack. If you can't help me, the least you can do is not laugh at me.” She turned to her host. “And you, Dominic, you haven't answered my question yet. Why do you want to have lunch with me?”

“I've wanted to meet you socially since your presentation to the business roundtable. You intrigued me. You were smart and very professional, all in one quite lovely package. I like brains in a woman, particularly a beautiful one. And you've put a new spin on a business I was sure I knew everything about, which also interested me. But I could never figure a way to meet you. I couldn't remember seeing you at the events I'm forced to attend in the name of business.”

He made a face that might be disgust for what he had to do for his work. How he managed to make disgust look sexy Catherine didn't know, but he did.

He went on, “I'd see you sometimes when our firms were both pitching the same potential client, but that was clearly not the right time to strike up a personal conversation. And I hesitated to track you down at home, assuming you might not appreciate being cold called by someone you'd barely met. So, when you leased space in the building …”

“You mean, leased space in
your
building.”

Continuing as though she hadn't spoken, he said, “… leased space in the building, I decided it was my opportunity to get to know you. It took a little more effort and time than I expected, but here we are. Finally.”

He topped off their glasses. “You fascinate me, Catherine Alessandro Bennett. The Italian woman with the WASP name. The founder and creative brains behind Philly's up-and-coming strategic communications firm who gets her clients without making the rounds of every boring social event in the city. Who turns down political work so she can work with companies on strategic plans that include political activities …”

“I thought we weren't going to discuss business.”

“I'm not discussing business. I'm telling you why you fascinate me. You're not like any other woman I've ever met. So I wanted to have lunch with you. To get to know who this interesting woman is.”

By this time, Catherine had kicked off her sandals and rearranged her seat belt so she could tuck her feet under her. Listening to Dominic extoll her virtues, she was sorry she'd ever asked him the question, because he was embarrassing her. Fortunately, he seemed to have run out of compliments for the moment because he changed the subject.

“Now,” he said. “It's your turn. Why did you decide to have lunch with me?”

“So there would be a few roses left in the Western Hemisphere for some other egomaniacal man to send to the object of his dastardly schemes.”

He watched her over the rim of his glass. “That's not true and we both know it.”

She blushed but tried to bluff it through. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Please, Catherine, give me some credit. I see you almost every day and know how you dress. In the time you've been in the building, you've worn suits or pants, jeans when you work on the weekends, but I've never seen you wear a dress. And you always wear your hair up or tied back, not loose, like now.”

He reached over, picked up a strand of hair that had fallen over her shoulder into the V of her neckline, and twisted it around his finger as if to memorize its texture. As he did, the back of his hand brushed her collarbone, making her shiver. Her skin tingled even in places he hadn't touched. She swore even her hair reacted.

After he'd tucked the lock of hair behind her ear, he lingered for a moment, drawing his fingers down the side of her face. “You dressed like this for lunch with me. Why would you make the effort if you didn't want to be here?”

Damn it. She was cornered. He'd figured out in no time what she'd refused to admit to herself until that morning as she got ready—she very much wanted to have lunch with him and had dressed carefully for it.

“Well,” she began, not meeting his eyes. “I thought maybe we'd be going to some upscale place, so a dress seemed appropriate.”

“Has anyone ever told you what a bad liar you are?”

“Yes, sadly.” She sighed. “I wasn't called St. Catherine in high school for no reason.”

“Is being bad at lying the only reason?”

“No. There were others.” She finished off the glass of wine. “But it takes more than a glass of bubbly and a drive to Jersey to find out what they were.”

“I'll look forward to figuring it out, then.” He topped off their glasses again and changed the subject.

The drive to Brigantine went by quickly. In what seemed like only a few minutes, Dominic's driver announced they'd reached their destination—Sergio's.

The Sergio in the name of the restaurant greeted them personally, fussing over Dominic like a close relative or a long-lost friend, seating them at a table with a view of the beach and the people enjoying the sun and surf. The lunch, as promised by Dominic, was delicious. After a green salad and a basket of crusty bread, they were served the best cioppino Catherine had ever had, accompanied by a glass of a crisp Soave.

Sergio didn't allow anyone else near them. He served the food, bused the table, even brought out a second linen napkin so Catherine could protect her dress from the spicy tomato sauce she might accidently splash on it.

Dominic and Catherine spent almost two hours eating, talking, laughing. She was pleasantly surprised by how much she enjoyed his company and how easily the conversation between them flowed. Each found out where the other had gone to school—Yale for Dominic, Penn State for Catherine—and what their families had been like when they grew up—loud, noisy, and full of love in both cases. They had both spent time at the Jersey Shore when they were kids, she in Wildwood, he on Long Beach Island. There was no discussion of business.

But it was when Dominic excused himself to take a phone call that Catherine learned the most interesting thing about him from Sergio.

While Dominic picked up a take-out order for his driver, Jack brought the Escalade to the front door of the restaurant where Catherine joined him. She hopped in the back seat and took the opportunity to text Melody, asking what was going on at the office. The immediate return message said nothing required her to hurry back.

“So,” Dominic said, as he joined her in the back of the SUV, “did Melody reassure you about how things were going?”

“How did you know? And they're fine. I assume when you talked to whoever called you, you found out the same about your office.”

“It was Edie with a question that could have waited until I got back, but yes, everything's good there, too.”

Curious about the woman she'd seen many times now without ever feeling any warmth from her, Catherine asked, “Have you and Edie worked together long?”

“Ten, twelve years. She worked her way up from copywriter to creative director.”

She hesitated about asking the question she had, even if the answer might solve the mystery of Edie's attitude toward her. But she decided what the hell, and asked anyway. “Have you ever dated her?”

“Why would you ask that?” He looked genuinely perplexed at her question.

“She seems very possessive of you. Particularly when you're talking to a woman.”
Talking to me, for example.

“I think you're imagining something not there. She's just loyal to my firm. And before you ask the same question about anyone else who works for me, I subscribe to the principle that it's bad form to dip your pen in company ink. But I'd rather talk about something more interesting than my HR policies. What did you think of lunch?”

“It was wonderful and Sergio is delightful.” She smiled. “He's also very revealing.”

“Now what could Sergio reveal to you to put that cat-lapping-up-cream expression on your face?”

“Well, I tried to pay for lunch while you were on the phone and …”

“You did what? Are you trying to insult me?” His fake anger was amusing. “My God, woman, you could have had a terrible effect on my feelings of self-worth.”

“I doubt it. But he wouldn't let me pay anyway.”

“And you found out he won't let me pay either, I assume.”

“Yes, because DR Investments Limited owns the whole row of shops and restaurants where his place is. You loaned every one of the owners interest free money to rebuild after Hurricane Sandy. Which explains why their block looks like it's completely recovered when the buildings on either side are still being renovated.”

“Don't make me out to be joining you in sainthood, Catherine. It was a way of protecting my investment.”

“No it wasn't. It was because you're a good guy.” She was indignant that he wouldn't take credit for what he'd done.

“And this surprises you, does it?”

Catherine rushed to explain, afraid she'd insulted him. “No, not exactly. But it doesn't fit the image I have of the powerful and influential Dominic Russo. I assumed you were the kind of man who makes his money by …” She struggled to come up with an appropriate word to describe what she thought.

“Screwing over everyone he does business with?”

“More like someone for whom profitability is the only goal.”

“Catherine, I haven't gotten as far as I have by being a nasty son of a bitch who merely wants to make a buck. I hire talented staff and pay them well; I only work for clients I believe in, and insist on good work even if we sometimes lose money on the contract. I like to sleep well at night and be proud of what my company does.”

“Did you choose where we had lunch because you wanted me to find out what you'd done for the owners of those shops?”

“No, I chose it because it was far enough away to give us time together in the car and a good meal when we got there.”

“And you didn't think Sergio would tell me what a good guy you are?”

“So now I'm not only a ruthless businessman, I'm someone who would use another person you perceive to be in my debt to get you to like me personally.”

“It's possible you'd do something like that to influence my opinion of you. You do have quite a reputation with women.”

“Really? Who knew?”

She rolled her eyes at his disingenuous questions. “You've supposedly left a string of broken hearts from Hoboken to Harrisburg. Which is what happens when you go out with dozens of woman but never more than once or twice with any of them. And haven't you been voted most eligible bachelor in Philly a couple times?”

“Three, but what does that have to do with it?”

“Just that you have, like I said, a reputation with women. And maybe you're used to doing whatever it takes to impress them.”

“I like women. I won't deny it. But I don't use other people to impress them. Never had to. Not that I'm bragging or anything.”

“Right. Not that you're bragging.” Another eye roll accompanied her comment.

“You can stop rolling your eyes at me, Catherine. Most of my dates aren't social, they're business. The work my staff does impresses the women I take to dinner. I don't break hearts. I make business deals.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, but if you don't believe me, ask Jack.”

“Is he serious, Jack?”

“Yes, ma'am. It's beyond me how he's gotten the rep he has. Unless he has another life with another driver, he's telling the truth. Just business, like he said.”

“And how come you know all this gossip, anyway?” Dominic asked. “You did more due diligence on me than on the office building you were about to move into.”

“It's not me. It's your mole. Melody has provided me with a multitude of details about you since we've moved into the building. I think she has a crush on you.”

“Melody. Damn. We forgot the salt water taffy.” He touched Jack's shoulder. “Where's the nearest place we can get saltwater taffy?”

Jack held up a box. “I got some while you were eating lunch.”

“Saved me again. I guess this means I have to keep you around for another month or two.” He settled back into the seat and took Catherine's hand. The electricity she'd felt when they'd touched that first time he'd come into her office was there again, this time even stronger. She wasn't sure if she was more unnerved by that or by how much she enjoyed it.

“So, I'm a ruthless businessman, a player when it comes to women … what else do you hold against me?”

She had no intention of telling him she held the same thing against him she did every other man outside her family—she didn't know if she could trust him not to hurt her. So she changed the subject to something more impersonal. “You got the Bonny Blue branding campaign I wanted.”

He threw his head back and laughed so loudly, he startled Jack who jerked the steering wheel to the right, almost sending the Escalade onto the shoulder of the road.

“Jeez, Dominic. Warn me before you bellow again, will you? I could have killed us all.”

“Sorry, Jack. Catherine's being very amusing back here.”

“More like giving you a run for your money.”

“Which is a good thing, is it?”

“Absolutely. You need someone other than me to keep you in line. She's a pro at it after only one outing. I'd say that makes her a keeper.”

“I agree.” Dominic was grinning at her by now. “But I'm not sure she's interested.”

“Then work harder at it. She's worth it.”

“You both know I'm still here and completely conscious, don't you?” Catherine asked to end the embarrassing turn the conversation had taken.