“Absolutely.”
Daniel leaned forward and stared hard at his youngest son. He didn’t know what was going on between himself and Amanda, but whatever it was, he sure didn’t need a misguided cheering section.
“Back off,” he ordered tersely.
“Now, Dad—”
“I mean it, Cullen.”
“I don’t care what you mean. It’s time to move past that corporate law stuff.”
“No way.” Daniel wasn’t giving up.
“It’s a ruse, anyway. Just go ahead and date her.”
“She’s not—”
“Send her flowers or something.”
“I already—” Daniel snapped his mouth shut.
“You already what?”
Daniel jumped to his feet and scooped up his files. “This meeting is over.”
Cullen stood, too. “You already what?”
“You’re an impudent young punk.”
“She hasn’t had a boyfriend for a while.”
That stopped Daniel. “What do you mean ‘for a while’?” The thought of Amanda dating someone else sent a spear through Daniel’s chest. It was the same reaction he’d had when Taylor had flirted with her.
“Roberto somebody or other proposed last Christmas.”
“Proposed?”
“She said no. But I think you have a better chance.”
Somebody else had proposed to Amanda? Another man had proposed to his wife?
The breath went out of Daniel’s lungs. She could have said yes. She could have been married by now—out of reach, out of touch. And he wouldn’t have had the chance…
To what?
What was he thinking here?
Cullen’s palms came down on the tabletop. “Take her out on the town. Make her feel special.”
Daniel stared blankly at his son.
“She likes lobster,” said Cullen.
Hoffman’s did a great lobster. Or Angelico’s. Daniel pictured Amanda across the table from him in a softly lit restaurant.
She looked good.
She looked really good.
With a sinking certainty, Daniel knew his son was right. And that meant Daniel was in big trouble. He wanted to date his ex-wife.
Seven
Daniel had been on a hundred dates, maybe a thousand. He knew impressions mattered. And he knew enough to focus on the details. First thing he needed here was a skilled calligrapher and a single white rose.
There was a little print shop down on Washington Square that would do an elegant invitation and do it quickly. He could have the driver drop it all off at Amanda’s later this afternoon.
He rocked back in his chair and buzzed Nancy.
Two hours later, he had his answer.
In an e-mail from Amanda.
An e-mail of all things.
He’d gone for style and elegance, and she’d chosen expediency.
He double clicked her name.
No, thanks, the message said. Could she have been any more terse and impersonal?
This gave him nothing. No explanation. No room to reschedule. Nothing.
No thanks? He didn’t think so. He hadn’t brought Snap magazine this far by taking “no thanks” for an answer.
He hit the buzzer. “Nancy?”
“Yes?”
“Get me Amanda Elliott’s office, please.”
“Right away,” said Nancy.
When the light on line one blinked, he picked up again. “Amanda?”
“It’s Julie.”
“Oh. Is Amanda available? It’s Daniel Elliott calling.”
“Mr. Delectable?” asked Julie.
“Excuse me?”
She giggled. “One moment, please.”
Daniel rubbed his temple, taking a deep breath. He didn’t want a fight. He just wanted a date. A simple dinner and some conversation so he could find out where things stood between them.
Her husky voice came on the line. “Amanda Elliott.”
“Amanda? It’s Daniel.”
Silence.
“I got your e-mail.” He kept his voice even and nonjudgmental.
“Daniel—”
He played dumb. “Is Friday night bad for you?”
There was a pause. “It’s not a scheduling problem.”
“Really?” He leaned back in his leather chair. “What kind of a problem is it?”
“Don’t do this, Daniel.”
“Don’t do what?”
“The roses were great. But—”
“But, what?”
“Okay.” She paused. “Honestly?”
“Of course.”
She drew a breath. “I don’t have the energy.”
He straightened his chair with a snap. “I take energy?” How did he take energy?
“Daniel.” Exasperation built in her voice.
“I’ll make the reservation. I’ll pick you up. I’ll pay the bill and I’ll bring you home. How does that take energy?”
“It’s not the travel arrangements that take energy.”
“What is it, then?”
“It’s you. You take energy. You said you’d back off, but then you came to the courthouse.”
“I will back off. I am backing off.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “Spying on me is backing off.”
“I wasn’t spying.” Well, maybe he was. But that was yesterday. Now he had a different mission. A better mission.
“You watched me in court.”
“So did several other members of the public.”
“Daniel.”
It was time to go for broke, time to pull out all the stops. “You were right, and I was wrong, and I’ll stop.”
There was a long silence.
Then there was a hint of a smile in her tone. “Could you repeat that?”
He snorted. “I don’t think so.”
Another silence.
“What’s the catch?”
He swiveled his chair, loving the breathy sound of her voice. “No catch. I’d like to take you to dinner. My way of apologizing.”
“Apologizing? You?”
“Yes. I think we’ve made some good progress in our relationship, Mandy.”
She inhaled sharply at the sound of her nickname.
“And I don’t want to lose that,” he continued. “And I promise I will not venture an opinion on either criminal or corporate law for the duration of dinner.”
There was a smile in her voice. “Will anyone join us at the last minute?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“What does that mean?”
He couldn’t remember doing quite this much work to get a date before. He must be slipping.
“It means,” he said, “that while I cannot vouch for the behavior of all the citizens of New York City, I have not invited, nor will I invite, anyone else to join us.”
“Is that a promise?”
“I swear.”
Another silence. “Okay.”
“Friday night?”
“Friday night.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Goodbye, Daniel.”
“Goodbye, Amanda.” Daniel grinned, holding his hand against the receiver for an extra minute as he hung up the phone. He’d done it.
Now all he needed was a pound of Soleil Gold chocolates and a reservation at Hoffman’s.
Amanda was definitely underdressed for Hoffman’s. She’d rushed home from the office and thrown on a black denim skirt and a cropped cotton blouse. Her makeup was light, and her hair was combed back behind her ears, showing off simple jade earrings. She’d suggested popping down to the bistro at the corner for a steak sandwich, but Daniel wouldn’t be budged.
In true Elliott fashion, he’d wrangled reservations to the “it” place and was preparing to show off his money and his connections.
She didn’t know who he was trying to impress. Fifty-dollar appetizers didn’t do a thing for her. And she sure wasn’t a trophy to flash in the faces of his society cohort
s.
A tuxedo-clad waiter tucked them into a softly lit alcove, next to a bay window overlooking the park. Daniel ordered them each a martini.
Okay, she’d admit the high-backed, silk-upholstered chairs were comfortable. And the expensive art, fine china and antique furnishings were easy on the eyes.
The waiter laid a linen napkin across her lap and handed Daniel a leather-bound wine list. Since Elliotts measured the importance of an occasion in dollars, she knew something had to be going on here.
She leaned forward. “You swear this isn’t part of some grand plan to coerce me into changing careers?”
“So cynical,” said Daniel with a disarming grin.
“So experienced,” said Amanda, watching his expression carefully. She half expected Taylor Hopkins to jump out from behind a Jacobean cabinet.
Daniel let the wine list fall open in his hands, scanning the first page. “You should relax and enjoy dinner.”
“I will,” she said. “As soon as the ah-ha moment is over.”
He glanced up. “The ah-ha moment?”
“The moment when that final, significant piece of evidence is revealed, and all of this makes sense.”
“You spend too much time in a courtroom.”
“I spent too much time married to you.”
Daniel closed the menu and gazed at her over the low candle. “Okay. Let me see if I can move things along here.”
That surprised her. “You’re going to ’fess up to the nefarious plot?”
A busboy in a short red jacket stopped to fill their water glasses and place a basket of fresh rolls on the table.
Daniel thanked him, then returned his attention to Amanda. “There is no nefarious plot. Bryan’s the covert operator, not me.”
“Ha. Everything he knows he learned from his dad.”
“Everything he knows he learned from the CIA.”
Amanda flinched.
Daniel reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers and sending a warm buzz up her arm. “Sorry.”
She shook her head. “It’s all right. It’s over. That’s what counts.”
“It’s over,” Daniel agreed.
Amanda drew a breath, retrieving her hand. “Okay, confess. What’s going on?”
“I wanted to tell you I thought you were terrific in the courtroom.”
The compliment gave her a warm glow, but she fought the feeling. This was no time to go all soft over Daniel. He was still up to something.
“That’s nice. But that’s not why we’re here,” she pointed out, reaching for a roll. They were warm and fragrant, one of her biggest weaknesses in life.
“We’re here because I realized when I watched you nail that guy that I was wrong to push you to change careers.”
There was no ignoring that compliment. It wasn’t glib, and it wasn’t generic, and she knew deep down in her soul that it was sincere.
The waiter appeared and set a martini in front of each of them. “Are you ready to order?” he asked, stepping back.
“Give us a few minutes,” said Daniel, his gaze never leaving Amanda.
The waiter inclined his head and withdrew.
Daniel picked up his martini glass to salute her.
Amanda lifted her own glass. “Let’s say I believe you.”
“I’d applaud your intelligence.”
“But I still think you’re up to something.”
He shrugged. “What you see is what you get.”
“Yeah, right. The Elliotts are known far and wide for their transparency.”
He slowly focused his attention, his intense gaze thickening the air between them. “I’m being as transparent as I know how.”
She waited.
“Think about it, Amanda. Candy, flowers, dinner…”
She blinked. “We’re on a date?”
His smile held a hint of pride. “We’re on a date.”
She waved her silver butter knife. “No, we’re not. You’re apologizing. We’re getting our relationship back on an even keel, for the sake of our children and our grandchildren.”
Daniel shrugged in a way that emphasized his broad shoulders. “Whatever you say. I’m not going to argue with you, Amanda.”
She stared at him in mutinous silence.
The waiter appeared at Daniel’s elbow. “Are you ready to order?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Daniel glanced at Amanda. “The lobster?”
The fact that he remembered her favorite meal gave her a little thrill. But she squelched it. This wasn’t a date. He wasn’t her boyfriend. Those stupid intimate details were just old habits.
“The scallops,” she said, to be contrary, handing the waiter the menu. “And a garden salad.”
Daniel’s eyebrows quirked. “You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“I’ll have the scallops, as well,” he said.
“But—”
He shot her a silent question.
“Nothing.” She’d expected him to order a rib eye, but she wasn’t about to admit that.
As a harpist began playing in the far corner, Amanda smoothed the napkin over her lap and regrouped. Tonight was about maintaining an even keel.
She searched her mind for a neutral topic. “So, uh, did you get your legal troubles solved?”
Daniel took a sip of his martini. “What legal troubles?”
“The employee manual.”
“Ahhh.” He nodded. “Those legal troubles. Unfortunately, it looks like we’re going to have to fire the man.”
“You’re going to fire someone over the employee manual?”
“Afraid so.”
An instant defensiveness bubbled up inside her. “You’re pretty cavalier with someone’s livelihood.”
“Well, he was pretty cavalier with his job.”
“What did he do?”
“Time theft.”
“What’s time theft?”
“When you’re doing personal business on company time.”
“What? Like making a hair appointment?”
Daniel gave a hard sigh. “You don’t fire someone over a hair appointment.”
“I don’t, but it sounds like you might.”
“He called in sick and then was spotted on Seventh Avenue by one of the managers.”
“Maybe he was picking up a prescription.”
“According to my sources, he looked hale and hearty.”
Her eyebrows went up. “You have sources? Bryan really does get it from you.”
Daniel stroked his fingers along the stem of his martini glass. “Even you have to admit that a company the size of EPH can’t afford to have employees abusing sick leave.”
Amanda didn’t have to admit any such thing. “Did you ask the guy what happened?”
“Not personally.”
“Did anyone ask him what happened?”
“He was offered a chance to bring in a doctor’s note. He didn’t take it.”
Amanda leaned across the table. “Maybe he didn’t see a doctor.”
Daniel took another swig of his martini. “He signed for sick leave. He wasn’t sick. That’s fraud.”
“Did he get a fair and impartial hearing?”
“Why? You want to take on the case?”
She met his level gaze with a challenging smile. “I’d love to take on the case.”
Daniel pushed back his chair. “We should dance.”
“Excuse me?”
He nodded to a staircase. “There’s dancing on the veranda upstairs.”
“But we just ordered.”
He stood and held out his hand. “I’ll get them to hold it. I think we should do something that doesn’t require talking for a while.”
Amanda opened her eyes wide and feigned innocence. “Am I ruining your perfect date?”
“Let’s just say you’re a bigger challenge than most.”
“Maybe you should dump me.”
“I’m a gentleman.”
Amanda stood up without taking his han
d. “Really, Daniel. You could cancel our order and take me home.”
She tensed, waiting for his answer.
Getting out of here would be the smart thing to do. The safe thing to do. Dancing with him would be the stupid and dangerous thing to do.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He captured her hand, and she hated the feeling of relief.
His fingers were warm and strong as they twined with hers, and the resistance evaporated from her body.
“This isn’t a date,” she affirmed as he led her toward the worn, wood staircase.
“Of course it’s a date. I sent you roses.”
“You know, my entire house smells like a florist.”
He gestured for her to go first up the narrow staircase. “This is a bad thing?”
“It’s a weird thing.”
“Your old boyfriends didn’t send you flowers?”
She twisted her head to look at him. “What old boyfriends?”
“Cullen told me about Roberto.”
She tripped on a stair and grabbed for the handrail. Roberto had been intense, too passionate. She didn’t need to save the entire world. She was just going for one small corner.
Daniel’s hands closed on her waist to steady her. “I hear he proposed.”
She regained her balance. “He did.”
“You said no?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“None of your business.” She pushed open a heavy door at the top of the stairs and the sound of a string quartet wafted over her.
Daniel reached over her head and took the weight of the door. “Fair enough.”
Amanda had expected an argument so his words took her by surprise.
He put a hand on the small of her back and guided her onto the open-air dance floor.
She immediately realized dancing with him was a colossal mistake. But then, it was beginning to look as though this whole evening was a mistake. Amanda should have known better. When an Elliott pulled out all the stops, a woman was pretty much powerless to resist.
He drew her into his arms and she automatically matched his rhythm.
The evening breeze was cool. Even the stars were cooperating—shining brightly in an unusually clear sky. She wondered for a moment if the superrich could control the weather. Maybe there was a secret satellite network out there.
She tipped her head back and stared straight up at the scattering of silver flecks against midnight purple. “Is everything you do always so perfect?”
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 23
