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“Pardon?”
She shook her head and gestured for the messages. “Deacon Manchester is a tough cookie.”
“A hot cookie, more like it.” Mariel corrected with a grin. “Does he ever smile?”
“I don’t believe he knows how to.” She scanned the messages, grimacing at several that Vladimir had left. “I suppose I must swallow my distaste and go to lunch.”
“I do believe so. The man is relentless. Is his book that good?”
“It’s brilliant, actually, and he knows it. He writes with a unique flair that I admire. The story about the Russian prince and his tragic love affair made me cry. But the man is an arrogant prick. You know how I hate pandering to people.”
“I hear you kicked ass inside the conference room.” Mariel grinned at her. “Sherry was lurking at the door as usual and heard everything, and you know how much of a gossip she is. You are my hero.”
“You might be admiring me for very long.” Delores did not bother reprimanding her for indulging in the water cooler gossip. When it comes to being confidential, Mariel was on par. “I spoke out of turn.”
“And Jerry, who should have been standing up, was just doing that – standing. I- “
They both turned at the discreet knock on the door. The door was pushed open before she could call for someone to enter, and Jerry came waltzing in.
“Mariel, give us the room, please.” He waved a dismissive hand at her. Instead of hurrying out, Mariel cast a look at Delores.
“That’s all right; prepare those contracts and confirm the reservation at Mignon’s for twelve-thirty.” She waited until her assistant had left the room before turning her burning gaze on the man who was now sitting down.
“You do not order her around like that. I am the only one who gets to do that, and I don’t because she is an actual person. What do you want?”
“So touchy.” He tsked, brushing slender hands over his jacket. “I just came in to tell you a big thanks for saving my ass in that room. I felt like a fool in front of Manchester and his crew.”
“That’s because you were not prepared.” She wanted to add that he was also a coward but did not bother.
“Well darling, thanks anyway.” He heaved out a breath. “I am now going to be a figurehead instead of running the place.”
“I have to go.” Pushing back the chair, she rose, not willing to sit and hear his sob story.
“This lunch- “
“It is with Vladimir, and it will be worth every penny.”
Chapter 4
The restaurant was packed at this time of day. Mignons were trendy and leaned towards the creative type. It was owned by a well-known sculptor whose work could be seen strategically throughout the large and elegant setting.
The publishing house had an account there, and Delores had been taking authors, agents, and other publishers here for more years than she could count. It was here or at Kelly Takahashi's restaurant, a few blocks away. It was in the heart of the uptown area and surrounded by museums, art galleries, and a giant mall.
The place was hopping as usual, with Mignon on the floor entertaining the patrons with her amusing anecdotes.
"Darling, welcome." She touched Delores's cheeks and gave them both a warm smile as she fluttered her hand to one of the waitstaff. "It's so good to see you; you look as exquisite as ever."
"So are you. Love the dress."
"This old thing?" She managed a pout and a smile of lips painted fire engine red to match one of the many colors in the swirl of her dress. "Something I picked up in Paris. Show our guests to their table. If there is anything I can do, just call me." With that, she whirled away to greet someone else.
"This way." The waitstaff led them towards a table tucked into one corner of the room with a view of the sidewalk and the bustling crowd.
"We will start with drinks." Delores glanced at Vladimir. "What are you having?"
"Vodka with a twist," He told the man decisively. "I am not driving; I caught a cab here, so do not skimp on the drink and no ice."
"For you?" he ignored the admiring look as the waiter stared at her.
