“If that’s business talk for you think I’m a little nuts to think this way, then, yeah, I do,” Ana said, smiling.
Their waiter approached at that instance, and they ordered dinner. After the waiter left them alone, Ana changed the subject with, “So, are we going running in the park tomorrow morning?” They had a standing date on Saturday mornings to run in Central Park if both of them were in the city.
“No, I’m sorry, but tomorrow I’ll be driving to Bridgeport for the weekend.” Erik sighed. Some of the people he’d had to negotiate with over the years had made some strange stipulations before signing on the dotted line. However Leo Barone’s invitation to spend the weekend with his family took the prize. Barone owned a shoe factory that Whitaker Enterprises was in the process of purchasing. Barone stated that he wanted to meet the head of Whitaker Enterprises in a social setting before signing over his company, and the people who worked for him, to him. The biggest hitch in the negotiations had been Barone’s concern for his employees once he was no longer their boss.
According to Barone, lawyers were fine for ironing out the legalities. However nothing compared to spending time with a person to get a real feel for what kind of man he was. Erik relayed all of this to Ana after which she responded with a smile, “Do you think he’d mind another guest for the weekend?”
“Of course not,” said Erik, smiling as if that was his plan all along. “I told him I would try to convince my lady friend to accompany me.”
“Is that what I am—your lady friend?” Ana asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You’re a lady and you’re my friend,” Erik replied, playing along.
“Could you drop the ‘friend’ part and refer to me as your lady from now on?” she asked, eyes sparkling with humor.
“As far as I’m concerned you’ve been my lady for quite some time now,” Erik told her, looking into her eyes with sensual intensity. “I was just waiting for you to come to that conclusion.”
“Then remember this date,” Ana told him, “because the wait is over.”
With that, she leaned in and kissed him. Because of where they were Ana held back, even though it took some strength to do so. Erik’s mouth was one of the things she liked best about him. His lips were beautifully formed, and when he smiled, showing those even white teeth, she got all jittery inside. Each time she gave him a peck on the cheek she always entertained the notion of kissing him full on the lips. It had never happened before. Erik respected her wishes to keep things platonic. He’d not even “accidentally” missed her cheek, grazing her mouth—not once.
She glanced at his mouth now and made a vow: this night will not end until I get my fill of those lips!
Chapter 2
“Let me drive!” Ana exclaimed, running her hand along the driver’s side of Erik’s sleek, black Corvette the next morning. Erik couldn’t hold back a laugh her face was so animated with pure delight.
She looked fresh and stylish in jeans, a cotton shirt open at the neck, a thick brown jacket to guard against the cold and brown suede boots. Her thick hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Erik also wore jeans, but had paired them with athletic shoes, an MIT T-shirt, and his favorite black leather jacket.
“I’ve barely had her out on the road myself since I bought her,” he said, chuckling and holding the car keys high above his head out of her reach. Ana pressed her chest to his as she stretched on tiptoe, trying her best to snatch the keys from his grasp.
“Come on, I’ll be good, I promise. No more than, five, ten miles over the speed limit.”
“This is not Europe, and we don’t have an autobahn,” Erik reminded her as he handed over the keys. She had him at a disadvantage. Her close proximity—her breasts against his chest, the subtle erotic, utterly feminine scent she exuded—were causing an all too familiar physical reaction in him. Better to relent and let her drive.
Ana clutched the keys in her hand and let out a whoop. “You choose the music, and let’s roll!”
Erik got in and buckled up. He watched as Ana slid into the driver’s side, automatically adjusted the seat to her proportions, then fastened her seat belt.
She turned and smiled at him as she turned the key in the ignition. He could have sworn she got pleasure from the purring of the engine. He’d never known a woman who loved to drive as much as she did. He had to admit, she was a good driver. Yes, there was that one time when they got pulled over for speeding, but even the officer stated that she hadn’t been driving recklessly, just over the speed limit. He had let her off with a warning.
Ana consulted the GPS and pulled into the early-morning Manhattan traffic. “Tell me more about the Barones.”
Erik was riffling through the CDs. He selected a Howlin’ Wolf album and put it in the CD player. “Well, the business was started by Leo’s grandfather, Alphonse, in the early 1900s. He and his wife, Lucia, were from Salerno, Italy. Leo’s father, Leo, Senior, took over in the sixties and left the business to Leo when he died in the eighties.”
“Doesn’t Leo have any children to leave the business to?” asked Ana. It made no sense to her that Leo would sell the family business, even if he were having financial troubles, when the tradition in the Barone family was for the children to inherit the business. The Corellis’ clothing-manufacturing business was also an inherited family business.
“They had a son, but the boy was killed in a diving accident when he was nineteen.”
“That’s terrible,” said Ana sympathetically.
“They still have a daughter. She’s sixteen now.”
“What a blessing. She doesn’t show any interest in the business?”
“From what I’m told, she’s more into soccer. Her team was the state champs last year.”
“You seem to know a lot about them.”
“I make it my business to know whom I’m dealing with,” Erik said matter-of-factly. “Besides, Leo likes to talk about his family.”
“What about his wife?”
“He met her in Rome when he visited the old country for the first time, is how he put it. It was love at first sight. He learned Italian in order to communicate with her.”
“You mean he’s Italian and didn’t speak Italian?”
“Italian was the language his grandfather spoke, and he never quite mastered. But when he met Teresa she refused to speak English so he had to learn it.”
“Smart woman,” said Ana laughing softly.
“Yes, he later found out she could speak English all along.”
“Very smart woman,” she added as she nodded her head to the beat of the music. “Who is that?”
“Howlin’ Wolf,” Erik told her. “He was known for classic Chicago blues. Like Muddy Waters.”
He knew Ana was slowly working her way through American blues singers. She loved the gutbucket blues the best, the rough-and-ready singers who got under your skin with the emotion in their voices.
“He’s got a gritty, sexy tone to his voice,” she said. “I could listen to him all night.”
Erik grinned, “Are you blushing?”
“No,” she denied, eyes on the road. “Tell me more about him.”
“He was a big guy,” Erik said, “six-six and almost three hundred pounds.”
“He sounds big,” Ana said.
“He