Читать книгу Seduced by the CEO - Pamela Yaye - Страница 12

Chapter 4

Nicco was having a hell of a time concentrating, and not just because Jariah Brooks was sitting across from him in his favorite corner booth at Dolce Vita looking like a million bucks. He found her worldly, sophisticated vibe appealing, and although the restaurant was loud and busy, he was having a kick-ass time in her company.

Boisterous conversation filled the restaurant, and all of the young, stylish diners were drinking, dancing and snapping pictures with their cell phones. From his seat, he had a bird’s eye view of the lounge, and chuckled to himself when he spotted his head chef walking around greeting regulars, shaking hands and admonishing the tuxedo-clad waiters.

Like last night, the star power was definitely in abundance at Dolce Vita but to his surprise Jariah didn’t get flustered or giddy when his celebrity friends dropped by their booth. She shook hands with each new arrival, but she seemed far more interested in her meal than chatting up A-list stars.

As Nicco surveyed the crowd, he wondered if he was being watched. Were the jerks who’d vandalized Dolce Vita here tonight? Were they sitting at a table plotting their next move? Or at the bar keeping close tabs on him?

Anger burned inside him, and Nicco gripped his tumbler so hard he feared the glass would shatter into a hundred pieces. The police had given up searching for suspects, so it was up to him to find out who had trashed his restaurant. And he would. No matter the cost.

At the bar, Nicco spotted a slim, bald-headed man wearing dark sunglasses in deep conversation with one of the female bartenders, and he sat up taller, straighter. The stranger resembled his ex-friend and former business partner, Tye Caldwell. Nicco considered going into the lounge to find out for sure, but decided against it. Tye wouldn’t be stupid enough to show his face at Dolce Vita after what happened last summer, would he? Nicco squinted, and peered inconspicuously around the young Asian couple sharing a steamy French kiss. The lights were low, and the lounge was packed, which made it impossible for him to get a good look at the well-dressed man. Thinking about, Tye—someone he’d once considered family—filled his heart with pain. Nicco felt a twinge of deep sadness. First Tye screws me over, and then Gracie. Are there any honest, trustworthy people left in the world? he wondered. If my closest friend and confidant could betray me, then anyone can.

“I’m glad I let you talk me into ordering the vitello. It’s so moist and creamy...”

Nicco ditched his thoughts and turned his attention to his lovely dinner companion with the knock-out curves. He was a leg man, but couldn’t resist admiring Jariah’s other impressive physical assets. The twenty-seven-year-old beauty was glowing, radiating an inner light that literally lit up the whole restaurant. She smelled like cherry blossoms, spoke with confidence, and despite her youth, carried herself in a composed, mature way. Her ruffled, orange blouse was eye-catching and showed off her toned arms and a hint of cleavage.

“I’m glad that you’re enjoying your meal,” Nicco said, eying her over the rim of his glass. “If you’d like, I could order you another entrée.”

“No, thank you. I’ve had more than enough food for one evening.”

“Does that mean you’re not having dessert?”

“I can’t. I’m teaching a step-aerobics class in the morning, and if I pig out tonight I won’t be able to keep up with my students.”

Her beauty dazzled him, made him forget everyone else in the room. Nicco didn’t know if it was the wine or the lively atmosphere in the lounge that helped loosen her up, but it was obvious Jariah was in great spirits. While waiting for their entrees to arrive, she’d asked smart, insightful questions about his company, and impressed him with her vast knowledge of the stock market. Jariah spoke with enthusiasm and passion about her volunteering work, and chatted excitedly about the new projects she’d developed at the Miami Food Bank.

“I’d love to discuss your business proposition now,” Jariah said, setting aside her plate.

Clasping her hands together, she looked him straight in the eye, her gaze unwavering and intense. It held him in its powerful grip, refused to let him go, and for the second time that night Nicco hoped he didn’t look as stupid as he felt. “I’d rather hear more about your hobbies and interests,” he said, artfully dodging the question. “What do you do when you’re not teaching fitness classes at Premier Fitness?”

“Not much. Now, back to your business proposition—”

“Come l’aragosta era? Fido di che sia stato anche il suo amare, Sig. Morretti.”

Chef Gambro, an overweight man of fifty, bounded over to the booth and clapped Nicco vigorously on the back. Speaking in Italian, his voice stern, but his manner playful, he explained that he was on a date and didn’t want to be interrupted. Nicco saw Jariah tense, then raise a perfectly arched eyebrow, and wondered if she’d understood what he’d said.

Gambro turned to Jariah and took her hand. Lifting it to his mouth, he reverently kissed her palm. Gazing at her adoringly, he complimented her effusively in his native tongue, but before Nicco could answer on Jariah’s behalf she responded—in Italian. Her tone was refreshingly light, but she spoke in a voice as lively and as animated as Chef Gambro’s. Dumbfounded, Nicco leaned forward in his seat, unable to believe his ears.

“Grazie per un pasto meraviglioso, Chef Gambro voi. Tutto era spettacolare, e il vitello era il migliore che abbia mai avuto...”

Nicco listened, enraptured, and realized that Jariah Brooks was as gracious as she was kind. She thanked Chef Gambro for a delicious meal and promised to return soon for more of his spectacular Italian cooking. The chef beamed, and when he swaggered back to the kitchen seconds later, his chest puffed up with pride.

“You speak Italian?” Nicco asked, regaining the use of his tongue.

“Yes, and Spanish, as well.”

“That’s impressive.”

“I had no choice. My parents forced me to take foreign language classes for years.”

“That must have been a total drag.”

“It was. My parents had very high expectations for me, and...” Jariah winced, as if she had a toothache, and her expression turned somber. “I owe all of my success to them.”

Silence settled at the table like an unwelcomed guest.

“Tell me more about you background, Jariah.”

The corners of her mouth tightened. “What do you want to know that we haven’t already discussed tonight?”

Everything! he thought, draping an arm over the back of the booth. Do you feel the chemistry between us? Have you ever had a summer fling? Would you like to?

To keep from reaching across the table, and caressing her skin, Nicco picked up his glass tumbler and downed the rest of his cognac. He started to ask Jariah about her career aspirations, but she interrupted him and repeated the same question she’d posed earlier—the one he’d conveniently forgot. Nicco was enjoying their conversation, and wasn’t ready to discuss his business proposition just yet. He wanted to hear more about her family, what she liked doing in her free time, and the kind of guys she dated. Not because he was interested in her, but because he planned to hire her, and felt it was important to know as much about her as possible, he had convinced himself.

“Did I get the account manager position?”

Nicco heard the vulnerability in her voice, saw the twinkle in her eyes and felt the impulse to lie. But he knew there’d be hell to pay if he upset Mrs. Reddick, and the HR Director was dead-set against hiring Jariah. Besides, he had something better in mind for her, and couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he shared the good news. “No, Jariah, I’m sorry, you didn’t.”

Her smile faded. “Why not? My interview went so well.”

“You’re right, it did,” he conceded, troubled by the pained expression on her face. “But we decided to hire someone with more experience.”

Jariah swallowed hard. “I understand.”

Driven by compassion, Nicco reached across the table and touched her hand. Jariah jerked away, as if he’d zapped her with a stun gun, and pressed herself flat against the booth.

“You invited me down here to tell me I didn’t get the job?”

He heard the accusation in her voice and rushed to explain. “No, of course not. I need an executive assistant, and thought you might be interested in the position.”

Her eyes tapered, and a scowl stained her lush, red lips. “I’m not.”

“Don’t you want to hear the job description before you turn it down?”

“No, Mr. Morretti, I don’t.”

“Please, call me, Nicco.”

“No offense, Mr. Morretti, but I have no desire to be a glorified receptionist.”

He paused to organize his thoughts. Jariah’s reaction was unsettling, and he didn’t understand why she was glaring at him. “I don’t need a receptionist. I already have one,” he explained. “I need someone to manage my schedule, accompany me to various meetings, liaise with clients and respond to my correspondence in a timely and professional manner.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Let me finish, there’s more,” he said calmly, though his temperature raised a notch. “My older brother and I oversee the day-to-day operations of Morretti Incorporated, but my real passion is the restaurant business. I love acquiring struggling establishments and turning them around, and I need someone with passion and conviction to help me.”

The waiter arrived, refilled their wineglasses and cleared the table of their dinner plates. He departed seconds later, but Nicco didn’t speak. He thought of telling a joke to lighten the mood, but decided against it when he saw her sneak a glance at her silver watch. Jariah looked bored, wouldn’t meet his gaze, and the tension hovering above their table was suffocating.

“I travel considerably for business, and have trips to Los Angeles, Chicago and Washington planned this year. Also,” he paused, to allow sufficient time for his words to sink in, “Morretti Inc. has numerous opportunities for employee advancement, and the next time there’s a vacancy in the accounting department I would personally recommend you.”

“Sorry, but I’m still not interested.” Jariah stood, purse in hand, and eyed him coolly. “Thanks for dinner. Good night.”

Determined to prolong their time together, Nicco slid out of the booth and boldly stepped in front of her, getting so close he could smell her strawberry-flavored lip gloss. “Let’s discuss the position further over a round of drinks,” he proposed, gesturing across the room. Every stool at the bar was taken, but he’d find a seat for her. Hell, he’d clear the entire bar if he had to. It was obvious Jariah was disappointed and upset, but Nicco didn’t understand why. She should be jumping up and down for joy, not tapping her foot impatiently on the ground and shooting evil daggers at him. “Hear me out. You won’t be sorry.”

“I can’t support my daughter on minimum wage.”

Nicco gave her arm a light squeeze. Her skin was soft, and her spicy, floral perfume aroused his senses. And his erection. “I’d never pay someone with your qualifications seven dollars an hour,” he said honestly. “Your salary would be sixty-thousand dollars, plus benefits, and three weeks paid vacation.”

Nicco studied her reaction, and tried to surmise what she was thinking. Her face was blank, impossible to read, but he knew she was impressed. Had to be. He was offering her a great job package, and the opportunity to work at a successful, world-renowned company. “Take some time to think it over.”

“There’s nothing to think about.”

“I think there is. I spoke to your references this morning, and—”

Her eyes doubled in size. “You did?”

“Yes, and your old boss at First National Trust Bank gave you a glowing recommendation,” he said, nodding his head. “He said you were the best accountant he’d ever had, and one of the smartest, too. And now that I know you speak Italian, I’m even more convinced that you’re the right person for the executive assistant position.”

Too choked up to speak, Jariah stared down at the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her into the ground. The weight of her disappointment was crushing, so heavy she couldn’t look Nicco in the eye. Convinced she’d landed the account manager’s job, she’d imagined herself signing the contracts at Dolce Vita, and toasting her success over a glass of rose champagne. But it wasn’t to be.

Could this evening get any worse? What’s he going to do next? Ask me to do his laundry? Jariah shook off her thoughts and her feelings of utter despair. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had ruined her night, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time. Agreeing to meet Nicco was a mistake, and as Jariah blinked back the tears that formed in her eyes, she regretted ever coming to the restaurant to meet with him.

“Are you sure you can’t join me at the bar for a glass of merlot?”

Scared her emotions would break free if she spoke, Jariah shook her head and opened her purse in search of her keys.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“No, thank you. I can manage.”

Nicco leaned in close and grazed his fingers across her bare shoulder. A thousand volts of electricity rushed through her body. For a moment, Jariah lost herself in the depths of his deep brown eyes. She feared he was going to kiss her right then and there in the middle of the dining room, and didn’t know whether to run or hide.

Clapping and spirited singing rang out behind her, and just like that, their spell was broken. Turning on her heels, Jariah blew out of the dining room at lightning-fast speed. Anxious to put as much distance as possible between herself and Nicco Morretti, she marched briskly through the restaurant, and out the front doors into the starry, summer night.

Minutes later, Jariah was sitting inside of her Dodge Plymouth with her face buried in her hands. Her thoughts were on dinner and the time she’d spent getting to know Nicco Morretti. From the moment they’d been seated in the restaurant, he’d been warm and complimentary, and even agreed that she’d nailed her job interview on Monday. But instead of offering her the account manager position, he’d insulted her.

“What a jerk,” Jariah grumbled, putting on her seat belt. “He must do recreational drugs because his business proposition is the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard!

Jariah jammed the key in the ignition and turned the lock. The engine coughed and sputtered but didn’t start. “Oh, no, not again.” Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and counted to ten. Feeling calmer, she tried the key again. And again. On the third try, the engine roared to life, and Jariah sighed in relief.

As she drove out of the restaurant parking lot, she spotted Nicco Morretti standing in front of Dolce Vita, lighting a cigar. Smoke billowed around him, adding to his mysterious, bad-boy allure. Pretending she didn’t see him, she returned her attention to the road and stepped on the gas pedal. His words played in her mind, wounding her afresh.