A Cowboy in Manhattan(48)
Rico grinned and hopped out of the truck. “Salvatore’s. Around the corner. He’ll fix you up.”
Salvatore turned out to be one heck of a tailor. And he had a business-expansion idea that sounded as promising as Nico’s. So Reed left the store with two new suits, half a dozen dress shirts and another potential business investment.
Back at the Royal Globe Towers, he called Danielle, and her assistant put him straight through.
“Good afternoon, Reed,” her crisp voice came on the line. “How can I help you?”
“I just spent half a million dollars.”
“On a sports car?”
“No.” Reed unzipped one of the suit covers as he talked. “A bakery and a tailor shop.”
There was a long moment of silence. “Reed?”
“Yes?”
“I have a law degree from Harvard, but you’ve got me confused.”
Reed retrieved the charcoal-gray suit. Salvatore had told him he could dress it up with a white shirt or down with steel blue and a diamond-pattern tie. “I need the money to buy a percentage of a bakery and a tailor shop in Brooklyn.”
“Oh. Okay. Give me the company names. I’ll start an investigation.”
“I don’t need some bureaucratic investigation. I just need a check.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I met the guys today. I saw their operations. I looked into their eyes and shook their hands. The deal’s done. Gianni Bakery and Imperial Tailors.”
“How did you meet them?”
“I was hungry.”
“You’re losing me again, Reed.”
“Nico sells some excellent pastries, but he needs a new delivery truck. Well, two new delivery trucks.” Reed stripped off the plastic covering and stepped back. He really did like this suit.
“You ate a pastry today, and now you want to invest in his business?” Danielle confirmed.
“Pretty much.”
“Reed, wandering around Brooklyn is not a reasonable investment strategy. You can’t do things that way.”
“It appears I can.”
“Reed.”
“Danielle, it’s my money.”
She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. Okay. I hear you. But I’m looking at their financials before we cut the check. That’s not negotiable. And if you’re going to spend any more than this, you have got to talk to me.”
“Sure,” Reed agreed easily, holding the diamond-patterned tie against the steel-blue shirt then the white one.
“You keep saying yes, and then you go ahead and do whatever you want.”
“Funny how that works.” Reed decided to go with the blue.
“You are impossible.”
“Know any good restaurants in Manhattan?”
“Dozens. What do you have in mind? Please tell me you’re not buying one.”
“I’m eating at one.”
“Good. Steak? Seafood? Greek? Thai?”
“What about French?” French was elegant. Then again, he was going with the blue shirt. “Greek. Make it Greek.”
“What part of town?”
“Midtown.”
“Try…Flavian’s. It’s near the Park, around Sixty-Fourth.”
“I will. Thanks, Danielle.”
“You’re keeping me awake nights.”
He chuckled and hung up the phone, then stripped off his cotton shirt and headed for the enormous shower that had two massive showerheads in the ceiling and six more jets in the walls. Ridiculous. He didn’t think any man needed to be that clean.
He stripped down, adjusted the water temperature and chose a small bottle of shampoo. There were still a couple of hours before he was meeting Katrina, but his stomach hitched in anticipation. He couldn’t help hoping she liked his suit.
On the other hand, he couldn’t help hoping she’d restrain herself with her own wardrobe. If she looked too good, it was going to be an awfully long night keeping his hands to himself and his promise to Caleb. Though, he supposed, it was going to be an awfully long night no matter what she wore. Katrina would look sexy in a burlap sack.
Katrina was gratified by the way Reed’s eyes darkened to gunmetal when he took in her red dress. She’d been hoping he’d like the short, clingy, off-the-shoulder number. It was made of lustrous silk with hundreds of black beads sewn into the low neckline and in a swirled pattern down one side. She’d paired it with spiky-heeled black shoes and a matching clutch.