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He’s on his feet by the time I’m standing in front of him.
Nothing about him has changed since this morning other than the suit jacket that now covers his T-shirt and the start of a shadow of whiskers over his jaw.
“Do you feel like getting a coffee?” I look up at his face as I ask the question, my voice as controlled as I can manage.
He stares at me for a minute. “There’s a place across the street that sells a great cup. We can go there.”
I nod as I turn to Shona. She’s doing her best to look busy behind the reception desk. “If Mr. Dirks calls, can you forward it to my cell, Shona?”
She tosses me a smile. “Will do.”
I take in a breath and point toward the bank of elevators. “I’m all yours.”
That lures a devilish grin to Rocco’s mouth. “Lucky, lucky me.”
Chapter 21
Rocco
Pink perfection.
That’s what Dexie Walsh is.
The dress she’s wearing was made for her body. It hugs her in all the right places, including her beautiful breasts.
The neckline dips enough that I got a clear view of the top of her round tits as we took the short walk from her office building to this café.
My café.
I hold a sixty-six percent interest in this place.
My cousin, Arlo Calvetti and his wife, Palla, own the other thirty-three percent. They’re the ones who are here at the crack of dawn each day, readying to serve the caffeinated needs of the people rushing to the businesses that border this street.
Arlo approached me when his job as a senior buyer for a pharmaceutical company was cut four years ago. This storefront was home to a small investment firm at the time. They relocated to an office in one of the towers on Park Avenue.
The dream for Arlo was a high-end café that only serves the finest blends of beans from around the world. I hopped on board with the understanding that this is a hands-off endeavor for me.
I hold the bulk of the purse strings until they can buy me out.
Palla on Fifth will be his family’s legacy.
“It’s my treat,” Dexie announces as we near the barista counter. Her hand disappears into the large purple bag slung over her shoulder.
Her hair moves with each dive of her hand. It’s loose and in waves. I watch her intently, noticing the small diamond piercing in her nose.
I hadn’t seen that before. I’m not surprised. I could stare at her for hours on end, and discover something new with each blink of my eyes.
The freckle that sits above her left brow was the focus of some of my attention this morning. Admittedly, her nipples stole the show.
“I’ll get the coffee.” I take a step closer to the counter.
She pushes to get in front of me. “How do you take your coffee?”
I smile inwardly at her determination to pay. She’s independent. I like that. It’s refreshing in my world.
I’m a generous man. I’ve used my wealth to help those around me. It’s unusual for someone else to pull out his or her wallet to pay for anything for me.
“Hot,” I answer succinctly. “No cream or sugar.”
