74. Dante
74
DANTE
T he look on King’s face when she walks into the room, and every moment after that, is priceless. The happiness in her eyes, the joy in her voice, all make this night so much better than I could have imagined. I’m focused and determined, with only one goal in mind out of this night. Anything else is an added bonus. I just have to make it to the finish line. I’m not in any way worried about how I’ll get there, I just hope it’s not too much too soon for her.
When she looks up and notices the silver balloons, which I knew would not get past her, I smile to myself, quietly pleased with the efficiency with which I’ve organized everything. I may not have set everything up with my own hands. But it was all my idea. Every. Last. Detail. And now I hope it will pay off the way I’ve imagined it will.
“Are you ready to play our next game?” I ask, as we set our dessert aside. She still can’t get over the fact that I flew Gino out from New York to make our dinner special. What I don’t tell her is that Gino and I have been in talks for months about him opening a restaurant in Seattle. He finally feels like he is ready to make the move, so I fly him out to nut out the details of the contract and to help me with my plan for tonight. It is a nice touch, I think. One that King is agreeable with.
“You say that like you have several games lined up for tonight,” she teases, and I know that’s the heat between her legs talking. King is a very sexual creature. She has no hesitation initiating sex, but once we’re in the bedroom, she likes me to take control. And that’s not something I will ever refuse her.
“We can play games for as long as you like. But first, this game.” I stand and reach for one of the silver balloons, bringing it down to the table. “You’ll need to pop it,” I tell her.
She looks at me, stunned, then moves the balloon close to the candle as instructed until a loud pop filters through the air. Something heavy falls to the table. A scroll. Her eyes are mesmerized by it, but she makes no move toward it. Instead, I pick it up and unfurl the paper in my hand until I am looking at it, about to make a decree.
“Kingsley Murray, you are cordially invited to cash in this scroll for three answered questions from Dante Accardi. Should you refuse this invitation, your right to a rain check will be invalidated.”
She gives me a funny look, frowning as though trying to figure something out, then asks if I am trying to flake on answering the three questions I promised to answer for her previously.
“I gave you every opportunity, King. You never seemed to be interested in asking your questions.”
“I think the questions I would have asked you when you first gave me that offer have evolved. They’re not relevant anymore.”
“Because you already know the answers?” I ask her.
She shakes her head then looks down at her lap momentarily. When she raises her head again, there is something electrifyingly magnetic in her eyes.
“Because I no longer need to know,” she says.
I know her questions probably would have revolved around my line of work and the world in which I live. She may have once been curious, but now she is at a point where she doesn’t want to confuse her feelings with questions she no longer cares about. Which tells me she doesn’t give a flying fuck what I do for a living. She’s seen enough with the recent attacks to gauge somewhat what my life is all about. What her life is also about, because she moves in the same circles. Although God knows, I am trying to legitimize every single aspect of my business as well as hers. There would always be shady dealings – that is unavoidable. But the more legitimacy we can give our businesses, the safer we are. I now have King to think about, and I have to work twice as hard to ensure her safety at all times.
“Do you have any questions now?” I ask her, and she surprises me by nodding.
“I’m curious as to why you haven’t suggested we work together or merge our companies?”
“You told me you want to run your business on your own. I respect that and think it would be a good idea for you to find yourself.”
“But you’re here every day. And your offices are just across the road. Does it make sense for us to work separately?”
“Is that your second question?” I ask her. She shrugs. She knows this is not about the three questions I promised her. She can ask me anything she wants to and I will always tell her.
“I wanted to push for it,” I admit. “If only to have you under my wing. But I also felt you had to find yourself. You wouldn’t have done that with me holding your hand over every little thing. This way, you take the credit for making you. Not me molding you into who I think you should be.”
“Do you see us merging our businesses at any point in the future?”
“I do. It’s up for discussion whenever you feel like you’re ready to take that step. There’s no rush, King.”
“That’s my three questions,” she whispers. I don’t know why I get the feeling she deliberately chose one question and drew it into three instead of taking the chance on any other questions. She’s absolved me of answering any questions I don’t want to, whilst getting the answer to a question she obviously can’t quite get out of her mind.
“Why do I feel like you’ve just cheated?” I laugh, reaching out for the next balloon and handing it to her. I ask her to pop it and there’s a loud pop and a sprinkling or more fine stardust, then another scroll lands on the table. I pick it up it, roll it out, and hold it up before my eyes. I smile at Kingsley as she waits, before I start to read.
“Kingsley Murray, this is your graduation. You have now been inducted into the Hall of Kickass Businesswomen. We have no doubt you’ll go far in life… kicking ass.”
She laughs and claps her hands together, taking the scroll from me and tucking it into a corner of the table as she tells me she’d cherish her graduation certificate forever.
“There’s one more balloon,” she exclaims. “You’ll probably give me the keys to the kingdom in that one.” She laughs again and I join her, grabbing the balloon again and holding it between us. I watch her as she moves her hand toward the candle and pops the balloon. A spray of red rose petals come floating out of the balloon, and another scroll falls dangerously close to King’s lap. She looks at it, but makes no move to retrieve it. Neither do I. I reached for the last two, but I won’t reach for this one. This one I want her to open.
“Open it,” I command.
She lifts the scroll reluctantly, obviously more happy to let me take the lead. She opens the thick paper, blinks as she looks at it, then raises her eyes to mine. She looks back down at the scroll, swallowing nervously, then folds it out on the table, tears shining in her eyes. This is not the reaction I’d been hoping for.