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He chuckled. “That’s not something I’m going to discuss with you.”
“Why not?”
“With all due respect, until I see what the problem is, I don’t trust anyone.”
“You think someone’s stealing from the company?”
“I believe someone has some underhanded dealings with the company. I don’t see the pure genius that Arthur is going in the red. He commands respect within the technological world, and yet here we are—he’s not been able to stay afloat. Someone with his expertise shouldn’t be struggling.”
She liked that he had faith in him.
“Just like I know you’ve been taking a pay cut. How are you staying afloat? Is that why you’re in a shitty neighborhood?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You like Arthur, don’t you?”
“Of course. He’s a good man.”
“He’s fucking grumpy.”
“Because he doesn’t know where it all went wrong. Wouldn’t you be feeling a little grumpy because of that, if someone has to come into your work and tell you how to run it?”
“I’ve no intention of doing that.”
“Oh, please, the moment you see a weakness you’re going to change it,” she said.
“Of course I am. I’ve got a lot of money riding on this success, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck it up to make myself feel better. I’m going to fix it so I know he’s strong, that the company is strong, and in doing so, I’ll be making a profit. Everyone needs a profit.”
“I know that.”
He brought the car to a stop outside a very nice Italian restaurant. There were no press waiting for him to snap a picture, which she was thankful for. The last thing she wanted was for their pictures to start circling. It could bring up the past, and she wanted to keep that firmly behind her.
Noah climbed out of his car, handing the keys over. She couldn’t believe how confident and self-assured he was. When they were younger, he’d been the star of their high school. Now he was just the star of his own little universe that he’d created. He didn’t go on into football.
His path took a different turn, one she’d been so damn proud of.
He opened her door and held out his hand. She took it, feeling that brief moment of safety he always brought to her. No one had been able to make her feel like this. He helped her out of the car, hand to her back as they made their way into the restaurant. Within a matter of seconds, the maître d’ was by his side, offering his thanks and escorting them to the table. Waiters came to his side, and he shook their hands.
He held her chair out for her, and she had so many questions. They were handed menus and finally were alone.
“Wow, you’re a celebrity here.”
“I guess in a way I am. I helped save this restaurant from ruin.”
“You did?”
“I like good food, and sometimes the only way to get it is to find the right cook.” He looked over the menu. “I’ll always have a seat here, and the cook will make me whatever I want. It’s a sweet deal.”
She chuckled and looked down at her menu. “It sounds like it.”
“You like Italian, right? I seem to recall you mentioning it a time or two.”
She flashed back to the time they were lying together on that worn mattress, hunger eating at each of them, talking about what they would love to have if they ever escaped.
“Yes, I do.”
“You’re shocked I remember.”
