“It’s not just that, Lena. The man offered me a job as an event planner with his firm. And do you know why? He thought it would be a huge step up for me. A step up from my current job as a server.”
Lena stared at her some more then she smiled. “So you’re pissed that he thought you were a server. He didn’t acknowledge you as one of the owners of Talk of the Town.”
“Now do you understand why I’m so upset?” Arie shook her head. “I know exactly why he made that assumption. It’s because I’m blonde.”
“Oh, come on, Arie. Give the man the benefit of the doubt.”
“No, I won’t. I’m sick and tired of people…especially men…making assumptions about me, simply because of the way I look.” The more Arie thought about it the more she bristled. “And that’s exactly what he did. I couldn’t be anything but a server. Too blonde, he probably said, or too pretty.”
Lena gave a soft chuckle. “Have a sip of your tea, Arie, before you burst. Come on. Right now.” She raised an eyebrow and Arie knew she wouldn’t be allowed to say another word until she’d followed instructions. So, still grumbling, she picked up the cup and sipped.
Lena gave a nod of approval. “Now that you’re a little calmer let me remind you of something.” She gave Arie a patient smile. “On the night of the event you were serving, weren’t you?”
“Sure, but I was just helping out.”
“And how was he supposed to know that?” Lena’s smile widened. "That night you were head cook and bottle washer, remember? In the middle of everything. And besides,” Lena’s smile turned sly, “you were grabbing trays and slipping into the banquet hall every chance you got, so you could spy on the man. No wonder he thought you were one of the servers.”
Arie glared back at Lena. Her partner had a point but she wasn’t ready to concede and she definitely wasn’t ready to forgive Rome Milano. “Well, he went to the trouble of tracking me down and inviting me to a meeting. He should have done his research and found out who I really was. You would think that would be step one.”
Lena tilted her head. “You do have a point. That, I can’t explain. But trust me, the man wasn’t trying to insult you and your being blonde had absolutely nothing to do with his blunder, okay? You’ve always been so sensitive about that. You’re blonde and you’re beautiful. Deal with it.”
And with that she got up and proceeded to shoo Arie out of her office. “Now take your tea with you and get out of my office. I have a meeting with the auditors this morning and I have to get ready.” As Arie went through the door she called out, “And take your mind off that man. He’s not worth your being upset all day.”
“Easy for you to say,” Arie grumbled under her breath. But, like Lena ordered, she went off to her office to tackle her million and one tasks for the day.
And the day flew by so fast that it was soon three o’clock and she was only on the third item on her list of things to do, a list that boasted all of twelve tasks. Arie could only sigh and dig in again, trying to go that much faster.
She was in the middle of reviewing a catering contract for a series of banquets at the Hyacinth Hotel when the phone on her desk began to ring. Not even looking up from her paperwork she grabbed the receiver and jammed it to her ear. “Arie Angelis speaking.”
“Miss Angelis, I have a gentleman here to see you.” Marilyn’s voice sounded soft and breathless, not at all like the receptionist she’d known almost two years.
Arie frowned. She was just about to ask Marilyn if she was okay but she didn’t. That would just sound too odd. “Who is it, Marilyn?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t Larry Brown from the advertising firm next door. The man had a habit of dropping in for a chat, which was annoying to say the least, but especially today.
“It’s Mr. Milano…from Belitalia.” The woman’s voice was filled with awe.
Arie’s grip on the receiver tightened and she sat up straight in her chair. “Rome Milano…is here to see me?”
“Yes. I…should I send him in?”
“Uh…yes. Please.”
Arie hung up the phone then, quick as a flash, she began to straighten up the mess on her desk. She did not have a reputation for neatness and things usually got real bad when she was under pressure, with papers strewn everywhere.
The thing was, it was usually Lena who had the visitors, not her. She hardly ever had to worry about tidying up to receive guests. Unfortunately, today - when she was at her busiest and most untidy - was the exception.
She’d grabbed a particularly messy folder when there was a knock at the door. Arie dropped the file on the floor and used her toe to shove it under her desk. “Come in,” she called out, her voice a study in calm, cool confidence.
The door opened and in the next instant the tall, Armani-suited frame of Rome Milano filled the entrance. And, just like she’d expected, at the sight of him her heart did a little skip inside her chest. There was nothing she could do to stop this attraction she felt for the man.
Still, she was a pretty good actress so, feigning composure, she walked toward her surprise visitor. “Mr. Milano. Welcome to Talk of the Town. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Call me Rome,” he said with a slight bow of the head and then he took her hand.
And, if he’d wanted to throw her off balance, he was doing a darned good job. Just his touch was enough to send her pulse racing. And not to mention those piercing brown eyes that never ceased to send thrills up and down her spine.
When he released her it was all she could do to keep from shoving her hand in her pocket to hide it from view. The last thing she needed was for the man to see the effect he was having on her.
“Rome,” she said with a nod, “come in, please. Have a seat.” Waving him over to the empty chair, she escaped to the safety of her desk. She was more than happy to hide behind that shield.
Once he’d settled in his seat she drew in a stealthy, calming breath and put on her ‘woman-in-charge’ face. “So,” she said with a lift of her eyebrows, “how may I help you?”
Rome relaxed in the chair then gave her a slow, easy smile that oozed confidence and charm. It was bad enough that the man was sinfully handsome. Did he have to be so darned smooth as well? “Miss Angelis,” he said then paused and cocked an eyebrow. “May I call you Arie?” At her nod he continued. “Arie, I’m here because I want to apologize.”
That made Arie’s ears perk up. “Apologize?”
“Yes. I owe you an apology for not doing my homework.” His smile disappeared and his face turned serious. “Aristotle Angelis, co-founder and owner of Talk of the Town, the number one catering company in the State of Louisiana. I should have known this when you walked into my office yesterday. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” She was so surprised at his apology that, for the moment, she was lost for words. In her head she’d created such an ugly picture of him – jerk, ogre, male chauvinist pig – that his apology threw her totally off balance.
As if he didn’t even notice her confusion, Rome continued speaking. “I’ve been accused more than once of being a chauvinist.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Yesterday was a demonstration of that.” His smile softened and he gave her a look that was hard to resist. “Let me make it up to you. Have dinner with me. Please.”
Another surprise. Arie stared at him for a second and then she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised. The sudden lift of an eyebrow, the slight twist of his lips, they were enough to tell her that Rome was not used to being turned down. But he recovered soon enough, his smile returning full force. “Are you going to make me beg?”
Enjoying having the upper hand, Arie shrugged casually. “Sounds good.”
Rome laughed and it was a comfortable, genuine laugh that had her smiling back. “Okay then, I’ll beg. Aristotle Angelis, will you have dinner with me? I’m begging.”
That made her laugh and, whether it was the wisest decision or not, there was no way she could turn him
down now. Still, she had to rub it in just a little more. “Hmm, I don’t know…” She rubbed her chin as if deep in thought.
“Please.” Rome shook his head, still smiling. “Do I need to get down on one knee?”
Now that would be too much. She could just imagine the wild fantasies that would start flying around in her head if he ever did something like that. And, as she well knew, those over-the-top fantasies would never come true. Not in this life, anyway. “No, don’t,” she said quickly when it looked like he was about to do what he threatened. “I accept.”
“Thank you.” Rome gave her a satisfied look that had her thinking. The man was a master manipulator, that much was clear, but she could manipulate, too. Little did he know it.
Because, when you looked at it, it was she who’d gotten what she wanted. For some reason the stars were lined up in her favor and, just like she’d dreamed, she would be seeing more of Rome, the looker.
Within minutes they’d agreed on date, time and location for their date and Arie couldn’t have been more pleased.
She was just wrapping up date plans with Rome when there was a tap at the door and Lena peeked in. “Sorry to disturb,” she said with an apologetic smile, “but I need a file from your cabinet. I’ll only be a sec.”
“Lena, come on in.” Arie waved her friend into the office. “Meet Rome Milano, CEO of Belitalia. We catered their sales award banquet, remember?”
“I remember.” Lena walked over and held out her hand, her smile widening when Rome stood up and towered over her. Lena was tall and there were few men who could do that. Arie could see she was tickled by it. “I saw you at the banquet but it’s good to meet you face to face, Mr. Milano.”
“Call me Rome,” he said as he took her hand. “I’m impressed with the service Talk of the Town provides. You’ll be hearing from my planning manager for future events.”
“I look forward to it.” Lena gave him a parting smile and turned to head for the cabinet.
Rome turned back to Arie. “So. Saturday night. Eight o’clock.”
Arie nodded. “I’ll see you at eight.”
That settled, he gave her a nod then turned toward the door.
Arie made to follow but he stopped her. “That’s okay. I’ll see myself out.” He looked over to where Lena stood, her look a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “Have a good afternoon,” he said, nodding to both of them, and then he turned and was out the door.
Immediately, Lena’s face broke into a huge grin. “A date?” she whispered, looking almost as excited as Arie was feeling.
She nodded, knowing that Lena was probably busy trying to figure out how she’d pulled that off.
Feeling pleased as rum punch, Arie gave Lena a cheeky smile. “And that,” she said with a self-satisfied grin, “is how you do it.”
***
Saturday night couldn’t come fast enough for Arie but then, when it finally came, she began to feel just a little bit uneasy. She’d got what she wanted but now she didn’t feel quite so bold. She was good at exuding confidence when she wanted to impress but the real Arie was actually quite shy.
The doubts came flying in from left and right. What if he didn’t like her? What if she got nervous and made a fool of herself? God forbid, but what if he was one of those who held on to stereotypes about blondes? Would that color his opinion of her?
Arie shook her head. “Enough,” she muttered then grabbed her purse and marched out of the house before she turned chicken and called him to cancel the date.
They’d agreed to meet at M. Bistro at the Ritz Carlton Hotel and when Arie walked into the lobby Rome was already there, looking as suave and composed as she’d expected.
As soon as he saw her he gave her an easy smile and walked over. “You look lovely tonight,” he said, his eyes roaming over her, making every inch of her tingle.
She’d been stared at before but never quite like this. The way Rome was looking at her made her feel like she was the most beautiful creature on earth…one he was eager to woo.
As if tuned in to her thoughts, like a courtly gentleman Rome took her hand and rested it in the crook of his arm. “Shall we dine, madam?” He gave her a look of amusement.
She gave him a curt nod and a quick smile. “Why, I think we shall,” she said, playing along with his game. But then she spoiled it by laughing. “I don’t know if that came out right. Was that a good British accent?”
“Pretty decent.” He was probably being kind but their little farce was all it took to put her at ease. At least the man had some semblance of humor.
That night Arie and Rome dined on sweet corn ravioli, gumbo, salmon and roasted chicken. The food was exquisite but that wasn’t the best part of the date. What Arie loved was the way Rome opened up to her, telling her little things about himself that made her look at him in a totally different light. She’d thought he was egotistical and jaded, the product of a privileged upbringing, but there was a boyish side to him, a humorous side that had her cracking up.
As she dipped her spoon into the crème brûlée, Arie looked over at Rome and, unable to stifle her curiosity any longer, she said, “You don’t seem to have much of an Italian accent. How come?”
He smiled. “I’ve spent so many years in the United States, sometimes I feel more American than Italian.”
She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “What do you mean?”
“I went to high school in Atlanta where our old office was located and then I did my first degree as well as grad school here.” He shrugged. “I love the old country but I also call America home. I’ve got the best of both worlds, I guess.”
She nodded. “So do you spend more time in Europe or here? Sounds like you’ve got offices across the globe.”
“And excellent managers to run them. I divide most of my time between Europe and the United States and I visit my Latin American and Asian operations about once each quarter. Lately, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time right here.” He gave her an enigmatic smile. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
He was looking at her so intently that Arie dropped her eyes and picked up her spoon again, feigning renewed interest in her dessert.
“And what about you?”
At his question she looked up again. “I'm sorry?”
“Where’d you get a name like Aristotle? It would be unusual enough applied to a modern day man, but to a woman?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Forgive me but it does beg the question.”
She smiled, glad for the change in subject. “Blame it on my mother. I don’t know her but I was told she was very into all things Greek and, on top of that, she thought that I looked wise. So now I’m stuck with this weird moniker.” She shook her head. “Just my luck.”
She’d thought Rome would laugh or maybe joke around about her name – a blonde woman with a name like Aristotle? She’d heard it all before so she was used to the teasing and she was ready.
But it never came. Instead, he was frowning. “You don’t know your mother?”
That caught her off guard. She hadn’t expected him to latch on to that part of the story. That wasn’t usually what caught the attention. “No, I was given up for adoption at birth.” Then, not wanting him to feel sorry for her, she added, “But I had a pretty good life and now that I’m grown up and independent, things could not be better.”
Of course, if she were to be perfectly honest, they could. It sucked that she had no idea who her mother was nor who any of her relatives were, for that matter. It sucked that when she had problems she was on her own. And it sucked that when the holidays came around she had nowhere to go, except maybe to Lena’s.
But all that was for her to know and keep under her hat. She gave him a brilliant smile designed to show him that she meant it that things were great.
It usually worked but not this time. “Tell me about that,” Rome said. “Your life, your childhood.” And then he sat back in his chair, looking like he was prepared to hear her whole life story. The man was actually cur
ious. Who would have thought it?
She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I grew up in five foster homes and when I was eighteen I went out on my own. I’ve been living an independent life ever since.”
“And you’re good with that?”
“I’m…good with that.” She was repeating what he’d said but she was staring back at him, half-confused. What kind of question was that? She had to be good with it, didn’t she? What choice did she have?
“You’ve never been tempted to start a family of your own?” His dark eyes were intense. She could not plumb their depths.
Suddenly feeling flustered, she looked away. Then she shook her head. “I guess…I never found the right man.”
Feeling totally uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken Arie desperately fished around for something else to talk about, anything that would get Rome’s mind off her. “I hear there’s a great jazz band here. Want to check it out?” She gazed at him wistfully, hoping he would take her bait.
“Sure. Why not? The night’s still young.”
As Rome waved for the check Arie stifled a sigh of relief. That was close. She hoped he would never go down that road again. Definitely too personal.
Within minutes they were heading for the lounge where, to Arie’s delight, they found jazz trumpeter and vocalist, Jeremy Davenport, in live performance.
“There’s a free table right up front,” Rome whispered. “Let’s grab those seats then I’ll order some drinks.”
It was such a treat, Arie could not have been more grateful to Rome for taking her to the Ritz Carlton that night. Just sitting there, listening to Jeremy Davenport croon the words of Satchmo’s classic, 'It’s a Wonderful World', had her in such a mellow mood she could have stayed there all night. Then when he pulled out his trumpet and began to play she was one of the first to lift her hands in applause.
“You like jazz.”
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