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By the time the main meal arrived, I’d tuned him out as he droned on and nodded in appropriate places.
My gaze caught a man across the room to me. He looked as bored as I did, as his date also seemed unable to shut up. He was super-hot, with floppy black hair falling over his face, but the sides were shaved. Brown eyes twinkled as he rolled his at me, and his lips quirked into a smile.
I rolled mine back and saw he wore a cut over a black tee. It stretched tight across his chest, which was not overly muscled.
“Don’t you think so?” Brooker asked me, and I jolted.
“You seem to be the expert,” I replied, not knowing what he was on about.
Brooker was happy with that reply and carried on babbling.
I just about withheld a sigh as the guy across the room caught my attention again. He’d twisted to call a waitress. I saw his cut and read ‘Levi’.
Levi held my eyes as the bottle blonde he was with plumped up her breasts—they had to be implants—and flipped her hair.
A snicker left my lips before I could help it, and I instantly turned my attention back to Brooker. Oh God, how much longer would I have to sit there listening? His eyes caught mine, and I saw his arrogance clearly shining through. Brooker obviously thought I was impressed by what he had to say.
“Are you going to ask anything about me?” I inquired, my temper finally kicking in a little.
Brooker wore a self-satisfied smirk as if he had me spellbound. Honest puzzlement crossed his face when my words eventually cut through the peacocking.
“Um… sure. Where do you work?”
“I don’t at the moment,” I began and saw interest flee from his gaze. I nearly laughed as his thoughts shone clearly. He thought I was looking for a man to take care of me. Time to prove him wrong. “I just bought a building a few doors along from this. I plan to turn the basement into a speakeasy based on the 1920s. It will be a members-only area and the first floor a club based on the same year. That’ll be open to the public. The first floor we’re turning into a ladies’ club and separate men’s club, which, again, will be only open to members.”
“Interesting,” Brooker murmured, but I couldn’t tell if he meant it.
“The second floor is going to be a shop selling clothing from the 1920s and 30s. While the third will be turned into a dance studio, and the fourth will hold the offices for the charity I own and run,” I added. I smiled sweetly as his gaze dimmed a little before sharp interest shone again.
“And you own these businesses?” Brooker asked.
“Yeah. Alongside my cousins,” I elaborated.
“Ah yes, how pleasant. I imagine having them to lean on is helpful,” Brooker said indulgently.
What did he mean?
“Yeah, well, Brandy wants to control the offices as she heads the charity and is the public face of it. Tami is searching for stock and looking for quality items. No cheap knockoffs will make it through her doors. Her sister Cami has designed the dance studio and has our information leaflets; she is already signing people. I plan to run the speakeasy and club,” I replied.
“Your cousins are all women?” Brooker asked, sounding aghast.
“Yes, is that a problem?”
“No, of course not. I suppose you have wonderful male managers,” he answered condescendingly.
“I beg your pardon? Are you suggesting women can’t run businesses on their own without male input?” I snapped as the waitress cleared away our plates. Her head shot up, and she glanced between me and Brooker before offering a wink to me.
“Not at all. A pretty face at the front of a successful business looks wonderful. But come on, you honestly wouldn’t want to be running two clubs. They are such a niche area, it might be better to drop the theme and go with something more modern,” Brooker suggested as if his opinion mattered.
“We’ve performed the market research, taken online polls, and done door-to-door polling. A good eighty per cent of the potential customers asked were interested, and sixty per cent said they would enjoy a niche market like we are offering. Cami’s already halfway through filling her allocated slots for lessons. Tami has not only reached out to suppliers that sell what we’re looking for but also has contacted several seamstresses about making her own designs.
“Brandy has established local projects where my money can help and is searching abroad for more. She only has a small group, so the large, airy offices will be perfect for her team. I’m not some empty-headed bimbo who suddenly got an urge to open a club. I and my cousins have all done our research,” I said. My tone remained even.
Brooker didn’t acknowledge my comments. Instead, he proceeded to lecture me like I was a fool running around with money. I honestly don’t think he realised how insulting he was being, but my temper began to boil as he dictated to me how to run a successful business. By the time we finished dessert, I was ready to stab him with my fork.
Every so often, I caught Levi’s eyes and saw the laughter in them as he clearly recognised the emotion on my face while Brooker didn’t. Levi seemed more amused and interested in my table than his own date, whose mouth was still running a mile a minute.
“Shall we order coffee or just go back to my place?” Brooker’s question stunned me as I gazed at him in surprise.
