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I met his gaze. He already knew the answer.
A soft smile crept across my face. “Both, and right now, I’ll start by waiting for permits, for the right moment to approach the Vitalis sisters, and for Calista to say yes.”
“Leave the rest to me,” he said. “I’ll handle the permits. You handle romance.”
I stood, set down my coffee, and felt something tighten and unfold in my chest. I would make good on those roses. I would earn a place in her family’s trust. And I would wait, counting each day until I could call Calista my partner, in business and life.
“Well?” I leaned over the drafting table and traced the pencil marks on the blueprints.
Iason pushed back from his stool and folded his arms. His gaze dropped from the plans to me. “Leon, you ran these figures through every possible scenario before you handed them to me. We both know the numbers check out.”
I tapped a finger against the edge of the table. “I like a fresh perspective.”
He lifted one corner of the top sheet and let it snap back into place. The softthwackechoed in the sunlit studio.
“Perfectionism suits you,” he said. “No harm in that.”
Satisfied, I picked up the rolled drawings and tied them with a leather strap.
“On to the next step,” I said, sliding them under my arm.
My phone buzzed against my hip. I pulled it free, eyeing the caller ID. “Leon Boscos.”
“Sir, it’s Alex at Kanoula.”
“Alex?” My chest tightened. He managed my estate with the precision of a surgeon. If he called me, something had gone wrong. “What’s happened?”
“Can I get additional security onsite? Right away.”
I exchanged a glance with Iason. His brow furrowed. “Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
I spent the next two minutes listening as Alex outlined a dispute at the restaurant—voices shouting, chairs scraping, the clink of glass.
When I tapped the screen to end the call, Iason was on his feet, coat already in hand. “I take it we need to move?”
He flicked off the light switch as we crossed the hallway.
“There’s a brawl going on at Kanoula, if you can believe that.”
“A brawl?” Iason asked. “What the hell?”
We reached my Aston Martin parked under the portico. I slid into the driver’s seat, pressed the engine button, and the V12 rumbled to life. Iason buckled in beside me.
“You think this is about you?” he said.
“It wouldn’t surprise me. Kanoula is a nice restaurant. Violence rarely breaks out in places like that. So, yeah, maybe it’s about me.”
“Why?” he asked. “You already eliminated the men who killed your family.”
“That’s true, but their names aren’t forgotten. Rumors about my link to a Vitalis sister have already taken flight. Their enemies could be behind this.”
He exhaled, fingers tapping the door panel. “They’re not exactly predictable. There’s no telling what those fuckers would do.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“Well, we can shut it down,” he said. “Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”
I guided the Aston onto the driveway, then onto the main road. “Let’s assess the situation before calling in reinforcements.”