9. BEN
9
BEN
T he dining room was good enough for our meeting. Tall windows with velvet curtains framed the harbor view after which the town was named, and the mahogany tables had high-backed upholstered chairs around them.
“Oh, wow,” Sofia breathed. “All this for just a dining room. Even chandeliers.”
“What else would a dining room like this have?”
“I don’t know,” she said, tilting her head as she thought about it. I looked away because it was fucking cute. “I guess chandeliers make sense.”
We walked to a table and sat down. The table was set with fine china, polished silverware, and crystal wineglasses.
All of it was what I would have expected in a dining room like this, and would have demanded for a meeting this important, but Sofia was in awe of it all. She touched her slender fingers to the rim of the wineglass and smiled.
“You know, we always had the cheap glasses at home, you know, the ones with the bubbled rim?”
I nodded.
“My aunt would try to make it sing the way crystal glasses would, but it never did. Because it wasn’t the real deal. So she would always say it squeaked the way the bath squeaked when she scrubbed it.” Sofia giggled at the memory. “She always called our glasses ‘scrubby,’ and my mom would get so angry. My mom was all about image.” She glanced up at me, her eyes still laughing. “It’s not as easy to uphold a fancy image with glasses from Walmart, but my mom did her best.”
“I’ve never made a wineglass sing,” I said.
“No?”
I shook my head.
“How much time do we have before Mr. Thompson arrives?”
I blinked at Sofia.
“Maybe a minute or two. Here.” She filled my glass with water from the pitcher on the table, and hers, too. She dipped her finger in the water and ran it along the clean-cut edge of the glass. A moment later, a clear sound rang out.
“You do it,” she said.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Come on, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. There’s a first for everything, you know.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “And you never forget your first.”
“Fuck,” I breathed and dipped my finger in the water, running it along the line. A sound came from my glass, too. Different from hers. She started explaining water levels to me, and how it affected the vibration of the glass to change the tone of the note when someone cleared a throat behind us.
When I turned, Richard Thompson had arrived.
Damn it, he’d seen that. Me playing with a wineglass like I was a fucking child.
“Mr. Thompson,” I said with a broad smile and held out my hand. “Ben Blackwood.” I would keep on this professional business smile and pretend like everything was as it should be.
“Richard Thompson,” he said, shaking my hand with a strong grip. “You can call me Richie.” He took Sofia’s hand and shook it, his smile broadening.
He liked her.
And why not?
I was pretty sure everyone liked her.
“Please, join us,” I said. “Can I offer you a glass of water?”
Richie glanced at the glasses.
“I think I’d like some wine,” he said with a sniff.
Yeah, fuck, imagine we’d done it with wine instead of water. That would have been even worse. Although a small part of me chuckled at what that would have looked like with Sofia’s fingers in the wine, and her eyes focused on the sound she made, her lips pursed like that…
“Sauvignon Blanc,” I said to the server, who seemed to appear out of thin air. “And you can bring the entrées when you’re ready.”
The server nodded and disappeared to fill the order.
“I ordered grilled salmon and vegetables for us,” I said to Richard.
“Good show. I love seafood.”
That had been a good move.
I nodded, pleased with myself. We made small talk for a short while until the server brought our wine. The Sauvignon Blanc had a crisp taste, with a little acidity that would complement the salmon beautifully when it came. I’d thought of this meal at length last night before I’d arranged it with the chef here.
I wanted the meeting to be as successful as I could make it.
Of course, the outcome would be out of my control, but I would control what I could.
“What do you think of the town?” Richard asked Sofia.
“Oh, I think it’s so picturesque,” she said. “I can just imagine what it must have been like in its heyday. Walking down those cobbled streets, buying an ice cream from one of the local cafés, or shopping at a little boutique…” She babbled on about the town, gushing about it as if it was worth something, now, and not the mess it was.
I wanted to get down to business. Urgency to seal this deal and get going with the project pulsed through me like a current.
This wasn’t just an important meeting for Blackwood Inc., but it would be good for the town, and in turn, good for my name. I just needed Richard’s investment and his endorsement to kickstart the project.
The server brought our salmon and vegetables, and it looked fantastic.
Sofia closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, smelling the food.
“This looks incredible,” she said.
“Atlantic salmon is a treat,” Richard said with a smile. “It was a very good meal choice.”
Right. He’d already said that, but whatever. I cut off a piece and tasted it, and it was exactly as I’d wanted it to be.
“So, Ben,” Richard said, turning to me. Finally, the small talk was over. “I looked over the proposal you sent me.”
I’d sent an elaborate plan to his secretary a couple of days ago, for the factory, as well as the suggested projects and the return on Richard’s investment.
“I must admit, I’m still struggling to take in the magnitude of it all.”
I nodded, offering my professional smile. I thought we would have it in the bag. This curveball was unexpected.
“I understand,” I said. “Rebuilding the town is no small feat. But you can rest assured that with our resources and expertise—”
Richard raised a hand, cutting me off, and I blinked at him. I glanced at Sofia for a moment. She wore a poker face, too.
“It’s not the resources I’m questioning, Ben.”
I frowned. “Then what is it?”
“The approach,” Richard said and cut off another piece of salmon, pairing it with the vegetables before taking the bite. He chewed for a while, making me wait. I tried to be patient—truly, I did.
“You’re talking about profit margins and economic growth, throwing around all the big words that any investor would want to hear, but what about the people? What about their hopes and dreams?”
I frowned. What about the people? Surely, creating the kind of town they could be proud of was something they wanted? What did it matter what they dreamed of?
The numbers were all there. I’d calculated the financial viability of the project, I’d made sure that Richard couldn’t say no. But emotions didn’t fit into spreadsheets and he wanted to know what the people wanted.
“I think the people will appreciate a new face to the town,” Sofia said. “It’s hard to dream in a place that’s falling apart.”
Richard smiled warmly at her. “That’s exactly what I mean. You seem to understand what I’m getting at.”
Okay, good. Sofia was saving the day. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea that she was here. Sofia was a people person, and apparently, so was Richard.
“You mentioned earlier about community engagement, about empowering the residents of Harborview,” Richard said.
Had she? I’d only listened to what she had to say with half an ear.
Richard looked emotional. “That’s what my late wife believed in, you know. She always said that true wealth lies in the well-being of others.”
I glanced at Sofia, suddenly irritated. She had a way of looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses, finding beauty where it didn’t exist. It was maddening and mesmerizing at the same time. Her optimism was magnetic, and it irritated me.
What happened to being pragmatic? What happened to my strong suit for this business deal?
“I’m so sorry about your wife, Richie,” Sofia said with compassion. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”
“I just want to do the right thing, and through these endeavors I can keep her spirit alive.”
“It’s such a selfless thing to do,” Sofia said, and her warmth seemed to cheer Richard up. Good. I needed him in a good mood to take this project on.
“Sofia does have a knack for seeing the human side of things,” I said begrudgingly, injecting myself back into the conversation. “But we can’t ignore the financial realities. We need to ensure that this project is sustainable long term, that it’s not just a fleeting gesture of goodwill.”
Richard nodded thoughtfully. His gaze flicked between me and Sofia.
“Of course,” he finally said, his eyes resting on me. “But let’s not forget the heart of what we’re doing—the people of Harborview.”
I groaned inwardly.
“I’ll need some time to mull over your proposal, to think about how we can marry business with compassion.” He glanced at his watch. “I should go.”
He was postponing thinking about it. What the hell was there to think about?
“You won’t stay for dessert?” I’d planned something special with the chef.
“Business calls, unfortunately,” Richard answered and stood. I’d hoped to keep him here, to be able to convince him right here, right now, if I had the time to do it.
I forced a smile even though I wanted to scream. The plans had been drawn up, I’d worked day and night on the proposals. The plans for the project were perfect and financially sound. But Richard wanted something else.
What if he said no?
I hadn’t once doubted myself or my plans, but now…
I looked at Sofia, whose eyes were bright and her smile genuine.
“We look forward to hearing from you again, Richie,” she said and warmly shook his hand. “It was such a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” Richard said warmly. “We’ll speak again soon.”
“Ben,” Richard said curtly and shook my hand, too. “I’ll be in contact.”
I nodded and watched as Richard walked away without even asking about the dessert I’d planned.
Well, I guess we could have that alone, Sofia and me.
I turned back to the table.
“That went well, don’t you think?” Sofia asked.
Her question irritated me, and I scowled at her.
“We’ll see.”