Page 30 of Falling for Raine
And just like that, the hard shell cracked and dissolved, replaced by a lopsided sexy grin that made my heart skip a beat.
“Or…Mint and Cooperton. Though mint and chip has a nice ring.”
“My favorite flavor of ice cream, by far,” I singsonged, thanking the server for the dessert menu. I pretended to peruse the selection for a moment. “How’s the acquisition going?”
“Not fast enough,” he griped, tracing the edge of the menu with his thumb. “But it will happen.”
Graham’s tone dripped with ice and a side of malice that felt personal. I almost felt sorry for the prick at mint and chip. He’d obviously fucked with the wrong dude.
“It seems to be the main event in the office. All anyone talks about. The deal, I mean…not the jerk you want to take down.”
“It’s business, Raine. Not a grudge. Gil Blowerisan odious man, but I want to save Mint and Cooperton for the greatergood. Hundreds of thousands of investors are affected by poor management, and I can help,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Out of the goodness of your heart?”
He scoffed. “I don’t do anything out of the goodness of my heart. This a strategic investment.”
“Ahh.”
Graham pointed at his menu meaningfully. “Do you fancy tea or coffee?”
“Fancy?”
“Would you like tea or coffee?” he translated with a smile.
“No, thanks, but I wouldn’t mind a bite of tiramisu.”
“Then you shall have it.”
A waiter appeared out of nowhere to take our orders and collect our menus, leaving us in awkward silence for the first time that night. It was an obvious signal that shit was about to get serious. I didn’t want to think about moving again. I’d just gotten here, for fuck’s sake. I had big plans to see Europe and return to WeHo a little more polished and capable—like someone who’d assessed his life and made necessary changes to become a better human. I needed more time to do that.
“Now that I’m full and tipsy, we might as well get to the punchline. If relocation was a possibility, where would you send me?”
“Los Angeles?”
“No, thanks. Or…I politely decline. I don’t want to go home. I’m just not ready.”
He arched a brow. “Do you like Las Vegas?”
“For thirty-six hours, yes.”
Graham snort-laughed. “That’s oddly specific.”
“But accurate. I can do a lot of damage in a day and a half. Anything more is overkill. Besides, it’s hot and I melt easily. And don’t tell me it’s different because it’s a dry heat. If it’s hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, it’s just too fucking hot.”
“Understood,” he commented, his eyes lit with amusement. “And Miami?”
“I’ve never been. I’d love to visit, but I’m not sure I want to live there. Same with New York City. If I have a choice, that is,” I added quickly. “I get that you want me out of here…the sooner, the better. How far away from London do you need me to be?”
Graham snorted. “Proximity isn’t an issue.”
I frowned. “I’m not following. I thought you were worried about me spilling the beans or getting ideas.”
“You’re putting words into my mouth. I said I didn’t make a habit of hiring lovers. You’re distracting, and it’s unprofessional on my part. Maybe I’d feel different if I liked you less.”
“There’s a compliment in there. I can feel it.”
“Certainly.” He grinned, swirling his wine idly as he leaned in. “To be perfectly frank, I’m puzzled that my staff hired an inexperienced person as an assistant.”