Page 3 of Last First Date

I had a cushy job in one of the best cities in the world. Our offices sat on the forty-third floor on Park Avenue. I was the captain of this little ship of the most successful branch of the company. One day, this would be my empire. I stepped into my office, shrugging off my coat and hanging it up. It was a chilly day with fresh snowfall covering the streets. I sat down, adjusting the collar of my Ralph Lauren polo. The cashmere was perfectly warm against the arctic blast New York was currently suffering under.

I looked out the window and could practically hear the sounds of the city. From my perch high above, I heard nothing.

I gazed out at the cityscape, where a thousand skyscrapers jostled for prominence in the skyline, mirroring the ruthless competition that defined New York. Through my window, I could see Central Park, its trees stark and bare against the white snow. I took a deep breath and pulled myself away from the windows and went to my desk to start my day.

"Here you go," my assistant said, putting my cappuccino on the desk. "Your mother is on line one for you."

"My mother?"

"Yes. She's waiting."

I glanced at my phone, a sudden unease settling in. My mother and I had a cordial relationship, but her calls were never random, especially on a Tuesday afternoon. I sipped my drink and reached for the phone.

"Hey, Mom. What's up?" I tried to keep my voice casual. I'd been a good boy. She had nothing to call and scold me about. Not this time, at least.

"Knox, your grandfather wants to have dinner with you tonight," she said.

"Dinner? Tonight?" I repeated, my mind scrambling to rearrange my evening plans. There goes my chances of getting laid. Unless it was an early dinner. He was old. Maybe he'd want to have dinner at five. I’d be out of there by quarter after six.

"Yes. He's taking the company jet, and you're to meet him at the usual place," she replied, the usual place being one of those exclusive restaurants where the prices could fund a small country. The family had a standing reservation.

"Any idea why?" I asked, trying to sound cool while searching my brain for whatever crime I might have committed to warrant a visit from my grandfather. Had I pissed off a client? Fired the wrong person? Slept with an employee?

No, no, and… maybe?

She sighed. "I don't know, Knox. He didn't specify. You'll have to find out when you meet him."

My grandfather was the sole person to shape our family's wealth and name. He came from nothing and amassed enough wealth to keep several generations living very well, assuming we didn't piss it away. His presence always carried a weight, not just because of his age but also because he controlled the family fortune, my trust fund. Even though I'd gained access to my money years ago and successfully managed the company's most lucrative arm since I was twenty-seven, the thought of facing him still sent a shiver down my spine. He was the kind of man that demanded respect not only with his impressive stature but also with his natural charm.

"Okay," I replied, my voice steady. "I'll be there."

"Call me later and let me know what he had to say," she ordered before hanging up, leaving me staring at the phone in my hand.

I let out a quiet curse and placed it back on the hook. My mind buzzed with a million questions. What could my grandfather possibly want? Maybe he wanted to talk about opening that new branch in London. It was something he mentioned last year. I could live in London. It would be nice to put an ocean between us. I had spent a lot of time in London in my modeling days. It had some great clubs and sexy women.

I checked my email right away, wondering if there was a memo that would shed some light on this impromptu meeting. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything to give me a clue.

It would have to wait. My first meeting was scheduled. It was with a couple throwing their precious princess a sweet sixteen party. They were going all out.

I walked into the meeting and was immediately met with a barrage of questions and requests from the wealthy couple. They wanted everything to be perfect for their little princess—and rightfully so. After all, Elite Occasions had a reputation for making dreams come true, and I took pride in upholding that prestige.

"We heard about that event you did last year at the Hamptons. We want something similar but unique for our Maddy," the father said.

"We want that for Maddy and then some," the wife added.

I smiled, feeling good that my reputation preceded me. "Absolutely," I responded, my smile never faltering. "Maddy deserves nothing less. Our team will ensure that her sweet sixteen is a unique and memorable affair."

After detailed discussions about everything from color palettes to the guest list, they finally left, dropping subtle suggestions about famous performers they wanted at their event. I didn't typically handle events. I was more of the overseer of the office, but when it came to anything over six figures, I got involved, more as a figurehead. Just to make sure the client knew they were getting the best of the best.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings, back-to-back conference calls, and budget discussions. Despite the looming prospect of dinner with my grandfather, I liked my job. It was something I had control of—or as much control as one could have in the event planning industry—unlike whatever curveball my grandfather planned on tossing my way. My trust fund was intact, and I didn't need it to live off considering my own wealth, but could a guy really ever have too much money?

I finished for the day, quickly going home to put on a suit. I couldn't get into the restaurant without a tie and my grandfather would not appreciate my casual polo, even if it cost nearly as much as the bespoke suits he always wore.

I hopped in my Porsche and made my way to the restaurant.

My grandfather sat at our usual table, his stoic expression unwavering as I approached. He rose, acknowledging me with a nod before giving me a quick hug.

"Knox," he greeted. "It's good to see you."