Jennifer Faye – The Millionaire's Royal Rescue (страница 7)
“And I remember, my mother said she had to speak to someone. She told me to wait on a bench like this one and she would be right back.”
“She left you alone?” There was surprise in his voice.
“No. She stayed here in the piazza, but she moved out of hearing range. There was a man that she met.”
“Someone you know?”
“I’m not sure. I never saw his face. I just know their conversation was short and he left immediately after they spoke.”
“What did your mother say to you?”
Annabelle opened her eyes. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t think she said much of anything, which was unusual for her. She was always good at making casual conversation. I guess that’s something you learn when you’re born into royalty—the art of talking about absolutely nothing of relevance.”
“At least nothing bad happened.”
“Thanks for helping me to remember.”
“I wonder what it was about that day that the memory stuck in your mind.”
“I’m not sure.”
The truth was, it happened a day or two before her mother died. Could it mean something? Had the police been wrong? Was her mother’s death more than a mugging? Or was she just letting herself get caught up in her father’s suspicions?
Annabelle didn’t want to get into details of the murder with Grayson. As it was, she’d exposed more of herself to this stranger than she’d ever intended. It would be best to stop things right here.
GRAYSON HAD RESERVATIONS.
The site for Fo Shizzle was not what he’d been envisioning.
Sure, what he’d seen so far of Mirraccino was beautiful. Maybe not as striking as Annabelle, but it definitely came in a close second. The South Shore was a mix of history and modernization. The view of the blue waters of the Mediterranean was stunning. But it just didn’t seem like the right fit for one of his Fo Shizzle Cafés.
“So what did you think?” Annabelle’s voice drew him from his thoughts.
“I think you’ve done a commendable job with this revitalization project. I think it’s going to be a huge success.” Now how did he word this so as not to hurt her feelings? After all, she’d been a wonderful hostess. And to be honest, he didn’t want this to end. This was the most relaxed he’d felt in more than a year...ever since the accident and the ensuing scandal.
“But...?”
“What?” He’d let his mind wonder and hadn’t heard what she’d been saying.
“You like the South Shore, however I detect there’s a but coming. So out with it. What isn’t working for you?”
He paused, struggling to find the right words. “I was under the impression that the site of the café would be in the heart of the city. This area is nothing like the locations of the other cafés. The way the South Shore was described in the proposal was that it was an up-and-coming area. This,” he outstretched his arms at the varying shops, “is very reserved. It’s an area that would be frequented by a more mature clientele.”
“We are in the process of revitalizing the area—the proposal was a projection. I was certain if I could get a representative of Fo Shizzle here that they would see the potential. I’m sure your café will be a huge draw. I’ve spoken with the tourism department and they can insert photos and captions prominently in their promo.”
His brow arched. He had not expected this bit of news. He couldn’t deny that free advertising would help, but would it be enough? “The thing is, my cafés are designed for younger people, high school, college and young adults. The cafés do not cater to a more mature audience. They can be a bit loud at times, especially during an online tournament. The decor is a bit dark with prints of our most popular avatars. Do you know much about our games?”
She shook her head. “Since you can only play on a closed circuit within one of your cafés, I’ve never had the opportunity. But the research looks intriguing. And I think it would be a hit here with the young crowd.”
“To be a success, this area would have to be heavily frequented by young people—”
“And that’s what we want.” She smiled at him as though she had all of the answers. “I have research studies broken out by demographic.”
He liked numbers and charts. “Could I take a look at them?”
She nodded. “Most definitely. I had a copy in my purse, but I also have them at the palace along with an investment package with detailed figures and projections. I wanted you to have a feel for the area before we dove into the numbers.”
He glanced around the piazza. “I’m just not sure about this setting. Don’t get me wrong—it’s beautiful, but it’s not quite as urban as our other locations.”
“In the reviews I’ve read about Fo Shizzle, they say young people come from miles away just to hang out and take part in the high-stakes gaming tournaments. You’ve definitely latched on to a great idea. And I hear the coffee’s not so bad either.”
“The coffee is actually quite good.” He’d made sure of that. Being a coder, he lived on a steady stream of caffeine when he was on a roll. And he was picky about the flavor. He wouldn’t have anything less than the best for his cafés—just as he would only have the top-of-the-line games. The newest titles. And the best quality.
Annabelle gave him a speculative look as though figuring out his unshaven appearance and his longer-than-usual hair. It was not his standard appearance—not unless he was on a deadline for a new program rollout. When it came to business, all else came in a distant second, third or lower ranking.
When she didn’t vocalize her thoughts about his appearance, he added, “I’m usually a little more cleaned up.” Why was he making excuses for his appearance? It wasn’t like he was going to ask her out on a date or anything. Still, he heard himself say, “It’s just with the media and all, sometimes it’s easier to travel incognito.”
She nodded but still didn’t say anything.
He hated to admit it, but he really did want to know what she was thinking. Did he really look that bad? His hand moved to his jaw. His fingers stroked his beard. It was quickly filling in. Soon it would start to get bushy. He didn’t warm to the thought.
Beards were okay on some guys, but not him. It just wasn’t his thing. “Is it really that bad?”
She shrugged. “It’s okay.”
Definitely not a ringing endorsement for his new look.
“I guess it doesn’t matter much if I shave or not now that my picture is all over social media. And it’s not like I’m going to be here much longer—”
“What? You mean you’re leaving? Already?”
He nodded. “I have to keep scouting for a headquarters for my Mediterranean expansion.”
“But this is it. The South Shore will be perfect.”
Was that a glimmer of worry reflected in her eyes? Surely she couldn’t be that invested in doing business with him. And if she was, he had to ask himself why. What was driving her to close this deal?
He cleared his throat. “I’m not ready to make a decision of this magnitude. I have plans to visit Rome, Milan and Athens next.”
“And when will you be leaving?”
“In the morning—”
“But you can’t.” She pressed her lips together as though regretting the outburst.
“Why not?”
“Because you still have to file a report with the police. There’s the theft and...and you’re an eyewitness. They’ll probably want you to testify.”
She had a point. And as much as he would like to fly off into the sunset, he wouldn’t shirk his duty. “You know, the only reason I walked away is because you said you weren’t going to press charges so I figured there was no reason for me to stick around.”
“I was truly considering it, but the policeman convinced me it wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest. So it looks like you’ll be hanging around Mirraccino a bit longer. And I would love to show you more of this beautiful land.”
How much more was there to see? And did she really think another day of playing tourist was really going to change his mind?
“I don’t know.” He glanced at his wristwatch. It was getting late. “Maybe I could swing by the police station now and give them my statement.”
“It’s Friday. And it’s late in the afternoon. I’m sure the people you’ll need to speak with will be gone for the weekend or at least have one foot out the door.”
“Can’t I just give my statement to an officer? Surely the whole police force doesn’t go home early for the weekend.”
Annabelle smiled. “Funny. But I meant you’ll probably have to speak with some of the clerical or legal people.”
He nodded. “I suppose they might do things a bit differently from what I’m accustomed to in the States.”
Annabelle nodded. “Now let’s see about getting you situated.”
“I have a room at the hotel in the city.”
“I was thinking of something different. How about being a guest at the royal palace?”
Had he heard her correctly? She was inviting him to stay in the palace with the king? “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. The king is my uncle.”
“And you live there—at the palace, that is?”