What a Rich Woman Wants (8 page)

He closed the door and let out a frustrated sigh. He'd gotten rid of Maria once. No one knew he'd had a hand in her being bounced out of the country. He had tied everything up in a neat bow. Now Maria was back and she planned to start tugging on the strings. She could easily unravel everything he'd been rebuilding the past six years.

He'd have to deal with Maria. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

Chapter Eight

As Niko approached the podium at the entrance to the plush dining room of the Royal Cove Club, he was certain he didn't imagine the host's raised eyebrows. Lesley had told him to wear a jacket, but she hadn't said anything about a tie. Niko hoped he didn't need one. His navy-blue sports coat was from last year's Jos. A. Banks's end of season sale. He'd paired it with khakis and a white dress shirt open at the collar. When he left the house, he'd thought he looked good enough for lunch at Lesley's country club. It hadn't occurred to him that the host would be as well-dressed as the patrons.

It wasn't the first time he'd had someone like this guy look at him with disdain. Not in the moneyed piece of south Florida paradise in which he'd landed. Nor would it be the last. Mostly he'd learned to ignore the attitudes of such individuals and pretend he belonged wherever he was.

“May I help you, sir?”

The guy had to be at least forty. His gold-plated name tag read Marcus Turner. Maybe he was the dining room manager or something. Niko had no idea. But the man's tone suggested there was absolutely nothing he'd be able to do for Niko and that most likely Niko had lost his way and mistakenly wandered in off the street.

Niko grinned. He couldn't help picturing Marcus having a stroke when he told him he was there to meet Lesley Robinson.

“I'm joining Lesley Robinson for lunch.”

“Ahhh.” Marcus gave Niko another appraising once-over. “Your name?”

“Morales.” Niko purposely rolled the
R
just to mess with him.

The host glanced at his reservation book, running his finger down the entries. “Ah, yes. Here we are. Please follow me, Mr. Morales.”

The dining room wasn't crowded. Niko supposed most clubs of this caliber were probably standing room only between January and April, but they didn't do much business during the summer and fall.

Marcus paused at a window table for four in the far corner. He pulled a chair back for Niko and whisked away two of the place settings before promising a server would be right over.

Niko made himself comfortable. The window overlooked a vast swimming pool surrounded by white lounge chairs and umbrella tables for four. Beyond the pool was a stretch of private beach. Both were deserted. A female server appeared and Niko ordered iced tea. It was his day off, and he vaguely wished Lesley had suggested meeting at Señor Tequilas, in which case he'd have ordered a beer. But he wasn't calling the shots at the moment. Lesley was. He knew iced tea was the safest beverage choice for a business meeting.

It came served in a frosted glass with a sprig of mint. What the hell was he supposed to do with that mint leaf? Leave it in the glass? Fish it out and set it on his bread plate? No matter how many etiquette books he read, there always seemed to be some small detail of proper behavior that escaped him. He decided to leave the leaf in the glass and turned it so he could drink from the other side.

Lesley appeared and Niko watched her greet the snotty host, who seemed absolutely delighted to see her. She was wearing another of those slim skirts, this one in a narrow black pinstripe paired with a white blouse and peep-toe black pumps. Her hair was upswept and clipped tight. Her only jewelry was a tank watch with a black band and gold hoop earrings.

Niko'd heard the term
understated elegance
and that's what Lesley made him think of now. Classy. Rich. She didn't flaunt her wealth. Her outfit and her demeanor said it all.

She briefly greeted some of the diners at the other tables, mostly older men and a few couples, before making her way to her own table. Niko knew enough to push his chair out and stand to greet her. He caught the flare of surprise when he did so. But she smiled and touched his arm, briefly pressing her cheek against his. “Niko. I'm so glad you could make it.”

He didn't have time to contemplate his reaction to the whiff of her subtle perfume. He held the chair adjacent to his out for her.

The server appeared in seconds. Lesley glanced at his beverage choice. “I'll have an iced tea as well. Hold the mint.” She smiled at the server and then at him. “I don't know why they put a sprig of mint in the iced tea. I'm never quite sure what to do with it.”

Niko smiled back at her and made a note to himself to order his tea plain the next time. If there was a next time.

Lesley folded her hands under her chin and regarded him. He held her gaze. He liked looking at her. He liked trying to figure her out. For example, what was going on in her head right now?

“I like you. I didn't expect to, but I do,” she said

“Thank you, I think. I like you too. I don't recall having any expectations one way or the other about whether I would, though.”

Her tea arrived. “Give us a few minutes, would you, Wendy?” she said to the server. “Thank you.” She turned back to Niko. “My reputation as an ice-cold bitch didn't precede me, then?”

Niko frowned. He worked at keeping profanity out of his everyday language. Though the term
bitch
was only mildly profane, he found he didn't care to hear Lesley use it, especially not in reference to herself. “That's an unflattering and probably inaccurate description of you.”

“Probably?” She gave a girlish giggle.

“I don't know you well enough to say whether it's accurate or not.”

“But based on your limited knowledge of me, your impression is that it's inaccurate. I appreciate that. More than you know.”

Usually Niko found small talk difficult and pointless, but with Lesley it was a bit like sparring. She wasn't exactly his opponent, but he looked for ways to pierce her armor just the same. Perhaps she was doing the same with him.

She reached for her menu, so he did too. After they ordered, Lesley said, “I suppose you're wondering why I asked you here today?”

“Was it so Mr. Gracious there at the host stand could decide if my sports coat would offend any of the other patrons?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course not! Was Marcus rude to you?”

“No. Come on, Lesley. Most of the Latinos allowed on the property are washing dishes or pruning the bougainvillea. They aren't the guests of Lesley Robinson.”

“Sorry. I didn't think about that. The club is just the easiest place for me to do lunch meetings. Are you uncomfortable here?”

“It's fine. I was just yanking your chain.”

Lesley glanced around the dining room. “Frankly, I think the club could do with a bit more diversity.”

“I'm on the waiting list.”

Lesley laughed out loud. It sounded real and genuine to Niko's ears, and it made him smile. He'd like to hear her laugh more often.

She settled back in her chair. Niko again wondered if she ever completely relaxed. She fiddled with her silverware for a moment before she looked at him. “I have a proposition for you.”

He kept his gaze on her, wondering where this was going.

“I've been thinking about your community center quite a lot recently. The Robinson Foundation funds will help, of course, but frankly, I know everyone who's anyone in this town. I believe, if you were introduced to people with money and influence in the proper circumstances, by someone they know, you'll soon have more than enough funding to get the center opened.”

“That someone would be you.”

“Yes.”

Niko sensed a trap of some sort. “And the ‘proper circumstances'?”

Lesley licked her lips. That quick dart of the tip of her tongue mesmerized Niko. Was she trying to seduce him? He almost laughed out loud at the very idea.

“I don't know how much you know about how things are done here in Willow Bay. There's a rather small, tightly knit group of individuals who basically scratch each other's backs. They all sit on each other's boards, attend each other's golf tournaments and charitable balls. Write checks to each other's causes. Most of the big events occur during the height of the season. Things like the Heart Ball, the Emerald Ball—”

“The Annual Garden Party, the Sunshine Festival.”

“Exactly.”

Niko didn't bother to tell Lesley he'd worked both traffic and crowd control at some of those events.

Their meals arrived. Niko looked at his steak sandwich. It looked decidedly unmanageable with grilled onions, peppers and melted cheese spilling out from beneath the bun. He wondered if he was supposed to pick it up and eat it or leave it on the plate and use a knife and fork. Why was nothing simple here in the land of the rich and influential?

He didn't have money to blow on dry-cleaning his sports coat. He picked up his utensils and leaned toward Lesley. “You're setting me up for something. Why don't you cut to the chase?”

He sliced into the sandwich before realizing he didn't need the knife. The steak was that tender.

“You're very sharp, Mr. Morales. I need to remember that.” Lesley speared a bit of salad on the end of her fork.

Niko finished his first bite. “Isn't that how business works? I wanted something from you. Now you want something from me. I'm not as sharp as you think, though, because I haven't figured out what it is you want.”

“I'd like you to be my escort.”

Niko almost choked on his second bite. He managed to swallow it and drink some tea. “I'm sorry. Did you say escort? As in
service
? Sorry, Miss Robinson. I'm not for sale. If you'll excuse me.”

He laid his napkin next to his plate and pushed his chair back. Lesley seized his wrist. “I didn't say escort service. I said escort. As in dinner companion. Dance partner.” She glanced around the dining room. “Sit down,” she hissed. “People are staring.”

Niko resumed his seat and placed his napkin across his lap. He made no move to continue eating. Instead he simply stared at Lesley.

She leaned against the back of her chair and lifted her chin. “I am obligated to attend all of those events. It's expected. It comes with the territory of being a member of my family. We are part of this community. My mother is involved in planning numerous events each year. I'm expected to be involved also, or to at least be a presence.” She glanced out the window. Niko thought he saw something sad and lonely flit across her features before she looked back at him.

“I usually attend these events alone. I don't have the opportunity to meet many men, that is many appropriate men, er, men I would consider…”

“Worthy of you?”

Lesley lifted her chin even higher. “It's a good thing you smiled when you said that. Otherwise I'd make you sorry you did.”

Niko chuckled and picked up his fork. He wondered what she thought she could do to make him sorry for speaking out of turn. Immediately following that thought came the answer. She'd make sure the board withdrew its support. There went his funding.

A light bulb came on as what she was offering sank in. She'd introduce him to all her rich, influential friends who would donate money to the center,
if
he attended all those balls and parties with her. At least that's what he thought she was getting at.

“May I continue?”

Niko gestured with his fork for her to do so.

“As I was saying, I don't meet many suitable men in my age bracket who would, who could—”

“Make themselves presentable?” Niko grinned. He couldn't help it. He tried to remember when he'd had such a good time.

He'd flustered Miss Iceberg.

“Are you blushing?”

She did that thing again where she squeezed his wrist, except this time she kept her hand there. “Niko, please. This isn't easy for me.”

“Sorry. I'll stop interrupting.”

“What I was trying to say is that yes, it's a bit of a quid pro quo situation, but I honestly thought if you'd do me the favor of escorting me to these events during the upcoming season, I would be happy to introduce you around, get the word out about the Challenge Project, help you with the donation process.”

Niko addressed what was left of his sandwich and fries while he thought about what Lesley had said. Wendy brought a fresh glass of iced tea and whisked away the one that was still half full. He'd say one thing about the Royal Cove Club. The service was as excellent as the food.

“Well?”

He set his fork down. “Tell me the rest of it.”

He gave her credit. Lesley didn't act like she had no idea what he was talking about. “You'd need formal wear.”

“Forget it then. I can't afford it.”

“I'd be happy to—”

“No.”

“Why not?” she quietly exploded. “If it helps you, if it helps those kids you say you want to help—”

Niko leveled a look at her and she stopped speaking. It was nice to know he still had the look. He'd used it a lot in his youth. He found it preferable to using his fists or a knife. He'd silenced a lot of punks with the look.

Lesley turned her gaze away from him to the view outside. Her chin dropped a couple of degrees. Her spine softened. She blinked several times.

“You're not going to cry, are you?” he asked.

She glared at him, but he could see she was fighting tears.

“Please don't.”

She gazed out the window again until he could see she got her control back. Spine straight. Chin up.

“You're right. It was a stupid, selfish idea. I didn't realize how offensive it would be to you. I was only thinking of myself and how I abhor attending all of those things alone. There's a very narrow dating pool in this town for women like me. Mostly it consists of my peers' ex-husbands or possibly a tennis or golf pro from one of the clubs. But even then…”

She'd barely touched her salad but she pushed it away.

“You weren't only thinking of yourself,” Niko corrected her. “You were thinking of me and you were thinking about all the guys that center can help if I get enough funding to build it.