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“Sit, sit,” my father tells us, taking a seat. “I took the liberty of ordering your plate already.” Glancing at him, I give him a small nod. “So, how’s this week been with Luxe?”
“Great,” I reply. “You and Mom should really come by.”
“I’ve been there, Cecelia.”
I roll my eyes with a smirk. “You saw it a month before opening. We still hand plastic up in parts.”
He blows me off with a small grunt that tells me it’s inconsequential.
“Chester says you’ve really put your all into this endeavor,” Mr. Thornhurst says.
His first name is Winston, like his son’s, but I can’t bring myself to call him that or even refer to him like that in my own mind. He comes off even more business-like than my father, and from the first meeting, I’ve gotten a cold feeling around him. My father can be severe at times, I’ll give you that, but Mr. Thornhurst seems like a man his employees talk about behind his back. It makes me wonder what his son thinks of him.
A tall glass of water sits in front of me with a lemon slice floating in it. Taking a quick drink, I nod to Mr. Thornhurst. “Yes, it’s my baby,” I say. My father reaches over, giving me an approving hug. “I know it’s still early, but all indications are that the location is going to be even better than what my initial business plan proposed. I already have ideas about what we might be able to do in Miami and New York.”
“You certainly are a go-getter, aren’t you?” he says, letting out a hardy chuckle.
It could be a nice compliment, but the moment he says it, he looks over at his son, smirking. Thankfully, Winston doesn’t reply with anything other than a friendly nod toward me. It’s not that his dad wants him to take notice, but it’s so dirty-old-man-checking-out-young-girl. That leering smile he gives Winston, he might as well be saying, “Get a load of her, son. She could be a great trophy wife for you.”
“I know what I want,” I reply. And because I really want to hopefully get my point across, I sit up a little straighter in my chair, keeping my gaze on him. “Luxe has my complete and undivided attention. I don’t have time for anything else right now.”
He catches my obvious passive-aggressive comment. The ogling leer morphs into an annoyed stare. The same one guys get when they think I’m a bitch because I don’t want to give them my number. Like I said, dirty old man.
“The headlines are calling it the best parts of Studio 54, Copa, and XS,” Winston finally chimes in with a thought of his own. It surprises me, especially after our last two interactions. “By all accounts, you’re the talk of the town.” He offers another friendly smile.
“Thank you.”
I’m actually caught a little off guard by the compliment, and the fact that he’s not far off from what I was going for. Glitz and glamour, mixed with prestige, while trying to draw the eyes of the celebrity class.
“XS was actually a big influence. And I want everyone to talk about it like Copa or 54.”
“Then you’re doing your job.”
This brief conversation is the most real connection we’ve had. It almost makes me double-guess my decision to have Stephanie call me. Almost.
“Here you are,” our waitress says, putting a long plate that holds salmon rolls and what appears to be spicy tuna down on the wooden table. “I’ll be right back with the sashimi.”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
Each of us grabs a pair of chopsticks and reaches for the sushi. I take a piece of the spicy tuna and stuff the whole piece into my mouth. “What are you going to school for again, Winston?” I ask with a mouthful of sushi.
“Cecelia,” my father scolds me, delivering a sharp stare.
I don’t care. I’m trying to get out of this meeting early, and I’ve already decided I don’t want to give Winston the impression that I’m interested in him. His father gives me the same glare that mine did, but Winston chuckles.
“Business,” he answers. He shoots a tiny glance over at his dad that no one else seems to notice, and looks like he wants to say more.
“Right,” I answer, still with some sushi. I knew what he was going to school for—it’s all either of our fathers have talked about—but I figured I’d try to be at least somewhat cordial before Steph calls.
“Winston will be taking over as an executive vice president within Thornhurst Properties once he gets his MBA,” his father speaks up.
I look over at Winston, who seems to shrink at his father’s words. I think I almost see a frown cross his lips, but it’s gone in less than a second.
“Yeah, I’m working on getting my bachelor’s right now. It’s funny, I really enjoy—”
“But business is where your head’s at, right?” his dad questions, which is anything other than an actual question. It’s a statement.
“Uh …” Winston reaches over and grabs his glass of water. “Yes, sir.”
