“I got the invitation,” he said and nodded.
“Kyra and I are on the same page about how to celebrate the occasion. I’m the one who will persuade you to let us book one of your clubs. Bollito, to be exact.”
Kevin arched a brow and a sardonic smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “You aim high.”
“Why not? You don’t get what you don’t ask for.”
“Or demand,” Kevin added, a glint in his eyes as he squared off with her.
“I never demand,” Chloe said calmly. “I don’t have to. I can give you not only sound business reasons why using Bollito for a homecoming party makes sense, but I can tell you why personally you’ll even enjoy it.”
Kevin sat back in his chair, lifted his sneaker-shod feet onto the edge of the desk and crossed them at the ankles. “I doubt that. The thought of over-aged former coeds let loose on my best club doesn’t work for me. But, you have my undivided attention. Go.”
Chloe arched a brow herself. It was actually something she’d taught herself to do, recognizing that the simple gesture implied everything from surprise, to skepticism, to contempt. At the moment Chloe used it to show Kevin that she was going to beat him at his own game. She knew how to negotiate a deal.
“To begin with, we’re expecting seven, maybe eight hundred graduates from our class, plus spouses and dates. Of course homecoming events will be open in general to all Hollington students, but the anniversary celebration on Saturday night is just for our class. I think it’s safe to say you were very popular on campus…” Again his eyebrows rose, although his expression remained otherwise impassive. “The party is an amazing opportunity to see folks you haven’t seen in ten years. It will be a big reunion.
“As to the business part. Really, Kevin, I think you know them better than I do. First of all I plan on charging an admission to the party. I’ll have a way built in to make sure that only those from the class of ninety-nine will attend. Second, your club serves alcohol. You get a bunch of overaged former coeds, as you call them, together who haven’t seen each other in years, it’s a chance to talk and spend money on liquor.”
Chloe had the satisfaction of seeing the interest grow in Kevin’s appraising gaze.
“You can throw in a selection of finger foods to serve butler-style. And nothing cheap. Provide the kind of foods we like. Make them delicious and well prepared and easy to manage with a drink in hand and the attendees will be raving long after the weekend. They’ll be talking not only about Bollito but what a great job Kevin Stayton did. Third, provide good music. You know we love to dance. Bollito has five dance floors. They’ll be put to good use. Give everyone a chance to shake their booty.”
He was smiling slightly now. With his elbows on his chair arms and his hands clasped together, he considered her over his knuckles.
“Fourth, we could set a time limit for the party, if you still want to open it to the public late in the evening. Maybe nine to midnight or eight to eleven. You decide.”
She stopped for a moment to let what she’d said sink in. Slowly, Kevin lifted his feet back to the floor. He turned his chair into the desk and leaned across the top to face her.
Chloe was taken with the maturity she now saw in Kevin’s face. During their last year at Hollington he’d been tall and thin but toned. He’d been smart and popular but never allowed his social life to take over his grades. He had a future planned, and he stayed on point. But Kevin was also known to be a serial dater, never without a girlfriend or two his entire four years of college. She counted it as astonishing that Kevin had once confused her for one of his girlfriends.
His face was a little bit long with a high forehead and a square chin. It had filled out just a bit, grown more expressive. His phase beard—just a dusting of facial hair—added an inordinate amount of masculine appeal to his brown skin, shadowy…and sexy.
Chloe remembered Kevin as being a fun-loving guy. He laughed easily and had been open, cocky and full of himself but not in an obnoxious way. Everybody liked Kevin Stayton. What was not to like?
But she could also detect that there was more caution now behind the direct gaze. It was assessing. Thoughtful. A kind of “show me” aura. Well, he was a highly successful businessman. Listening to all the facts before making a decision was part of his responsibility.
Kevin considered her for another few seconds before sitting back. He began to gently swivel his chair from side to side.
“Okay, I like the plan. There are a couple of things I want stipulated, but…”
“You’ll do it? We can use Bollito?”
He grinned. “I’m sure you didn’t come in here expecting me to say no.”
“Of course not,” she hastened to say. “But I did expect more of an argument.”
“I try not to argue about anything. Too exhausting and generally doesn’t accomplish much.”
She agreed, and nodded silently to show it.
“I’ll want a contract, of course.”
“Naturally.”
“But all in all I’m confident this can work out to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“And pleasure. I want this to be a fun evening for everyone. Memorable.”
“Hearing you talk sounds like it will be. Okay, let’s see if we can knock out the contract terms. Let me get Peg—”
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Kevin, but I have to go.”
“Just like that? This shouldn’t take long. I’m willing to bet you’ve considered everything,” Kevin told her with a smile.
She smiled graciously. “I have other appointments.”
He pursed his lips and stood as well. “Busy lady. So when do I see you again?”
“At your convenience.”
“Dinner tonight.”
Chloe’s gaze targeted him abruptly. “What?”
“Dinner,” Kevin repeated, ignoring the surprised expression on her face. “At Bollito, if you like. I’ll show you around. You can see what you’re getting.”
“No. But thank you,” Chloe finally managed. “I do want to see the club but maybe another time. With dinner, if you insist.”
“It’s part of sealing the deal. How about breakfast tomorrow morning? Or lunch. Or dinner. That’s twenty-four hours. At some point you’ll have to stop and eat.”
Chloe moistened her lips and gave Kevin her best “let’s keep this business” look. He shrugged as if to say that he couldn’t be blamed for trying.
He gave in with a slight shrug. Bending over a desk calendar he ran his finger down a list of time slots for the next day. “I can see you at nine-thirty or eleven tomorrow morning.”
“Eleven. My office,” Chloe decided. She reached into her bag and took out a small silver case. Extracting a business card she handed it to Kevin.
Kevin was staring at her, hard and skeptical. “How did you get into the event planning business?”
Chloe smiled, not offended by his need to know. “I started out taking over the details of parties in my dorm. It spread beyond that to helping people I worked with. After graduation I spent almost five years in New York working for the wedding planner at the Plaza. What began as an internship turned into a career. I’m good at it,” she added. He arched a brow.
“Chloe Jackson,” Kevin murmured, almost to himself as he stood beside her at his office door. “The name does sound familiar.