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“You just got here. We’ve had one drink. There’s a good bottle of champagne to finish. Stay awhile. Or better, let’s get dinner.”
“Together?” Her voice squeaked.
“I think we can both agree we’re not getting anywhere with this business meeting. Why not have dinner?”
Her eyes darted across the room to Kimble. “Because we both know what happened last time.”
“Bring him with us.” I nodded at the bodyguard.
“Really?”
“Yes. If he’s going to be your security detail, then he goes where you go. I get it.”
I saw her process the information. “And what do I tell my father about our meeting?” she asked.
“You could send him a message for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell him to back off the boutique hotel deal. It’s not going to work.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I tell him that? He wants the hotel.”
“But he can’t have it.” I tried to keep my voice clear and firm.
“What makes you think that?” she argued.
“He’s new to New Orleans. I understand he doesn’t know how intricate the hierarchy is. That will come with time. But my father wants that space. Lucien needs to let it go. He should step aside.”
A bubble of determination surfaced on her face. “You’re saying your father wants it, so he gets it.”
I finished off the last sip in my glass. “Yes. That’s usually how it works.” My eyes settled on hers. I could tell she was offended. “Look.” I brushed my thumb over her knuckles before she tried to pull away from me. “Our fathers’ business, isn’t us. What they do isn’t you and me. Our meeting is over. I just want to take you to dinner, Kennedy.”
She exhaled. “You don’t care that we’re on opposite sides of this thing?”
“No. I don’t give a shit, honestly. I’d like to take you out. That’s all I care about right now.”
Her bottom lip dragged under her teeth. “Where do you want to go?”
I paid the tab for the drinks. “You’ll see. Let’s get out of here.”
7
Kennedy
I had chosen a red dress for the meeting. One that accentuated my waist and drifted up and down my leg at mid-thigh. I wanted Mr. Corban to know I was a force of nature. He needed to take me seriously. Red was a power statement. I wanted the dress to set a different tone than my gown from Seraphina’s engagement party. I wasn’t a party guest today. I was an extension of my father’s arm. I was a part of the Martin dynasty.
I had to let the weight of that sink in.
I fidgeted in the backseat of the car while Kimble drove to the bar. I had looked in on my father before I left the house. He had already fallen asleep. I gave the house manager instructions to call me if he seemed any worse while I was gone.
Worrying about my father didn’t come naturally. He made it difficult to care, much less show affection or concern about his well-being. It wasn’t easy being his daughter. We didn’t hug. He never tucked me in as a child. There were no sentimental father daughter moments. But something shifted between us today. His eyes saw something in me they’d never seen before.
It was a lie to try to pretend this meeting didn’t matter to me. I was nervous walking into the bar. Kimble’s strong presence wasn’t enough to calm me. I had to prove myself. I had to represent our family name.
The game changed in a single instant. The rehearsed pleasantries were useless as soon as I spotted Knight Corban. My stomach flipped and I sighed quietly.
Did Knight have any idea how excited and anxious I was when I saw him sitting at the table instead of his father? I was relieved I didn’t have to match wits with the king of New Orleans, but instead I was faced with the danger of spending time with Knight. Not only drinks, but dinner.
