I smile stupidly. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, come on. Random friend of your dad’s invites you to dinner? I think anyone would ditch out on that.”
I laugh a little bit. “Well, you said Butcher and Singer, so I figured…”
“At least you’d get a good meal,” he says, nodding. “Exactly why I chose this place. Even if I’m horrible company, at least you can eat well.”
I laugh again and look at a menu. “Speaking of which. I’ll take one of everything.”
He grins at me, cocks his head. There’s a glass of something brown by his hand. He picks it up and swirls it almost absently.
“You can have whatever you want,” he says. “Please, go wild. I come here all the time.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I love this place. The ambiance always gets me.”
“Well. Okay. Thanks.”
I feel a little awkward, but I make a quick decision. A waitress comes to check on us and I order a glass of wine and the filet mignon. He asks for the lobster a la Newburg, and the waitress hurries off.
“Lobster?” I ask. “You really are fancy, aren’t you?”
He laughs and shrugs. “I guess so. Can’t help myself here. It’s just too good.”
He asks me what I’ve been up to and I give him the stock answer, just figuring everything out. He asks me about school, and my wine appears a few minutes later.
We make small talk, sticking to easy topics for the most part. I find myself laughing a lot and the conversation never really gets awkward or uncomfortable. He’s easygoing, funny, and laidback, not at all like the other men my father was friends with. He seems twenty years younger than he actually is.
Our food comes after a bit and he leans forward, holding up his glass. “I want to have a toast,” he says.
“Okay.” I hold mine up, head cocked. I expect him to say something sappy about my dad.
“To you,” he says softly. “And to your future.”
I’m a little surprised but I clink his glass and sip my wine.
“And speaking of your future,” he says, “I have to admit something to you.”
“What’s that?” I ask, feeling wary suddenly.
“I invited you here with an ulterior motive.”
I bite my lip. Dirty thoughts run through my mind, but I force myself to push them away.
“Are you about to propose or something?”
He laughs at that, genuinely delighted. “No, you’re not that lucky.”
“Lucky? Have you been married before?”
“Never,” he says. “And no kids, since I know that’s the next logical question.”
“Never married, no kids. No wonder you can afford this place.”
He rolls his eyes. “You sound like your dad.”
I smile at that. “I am his daughter.”
He nods a little, still smiling. “Look, I wanted to offer you a job.”
I finger my wine glass and stare at him. “A job?” I ask finally.
“It won’t be anything fancy,” he says quickly. “I’m starting a new venture, a publishing business. I’m going to need someone to be my assistant, but you’ll have other duties on top of that. Simple stuff, shipping books, sending invoices, that sort of thing. Pretty boring.” He shrugs a little and leans back like he just got something off his chest.
“A job at your new publishing venture,” I say. “Uh, what did you used to do?”
“I sold a marketing company recently,” he says. “Decided to move on and try something new.”
“So you chose publishing? Since physical books are really selling like hotcakes these days.”
He sips his drink, not smiling, but his eyes seem interested. “Good point.”
“You’ll do eBooks too, right?”
“We might.”
“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I’m being too pushy, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” he admits. “But I like it, don’t worry. Just like your—”
“Don’t,” I say, holding up a hand. “Don’t say I’m just like my dad.”
“I was going to say mother.” His smile is gentle as he puts his drink down and picks up his utensils. “Think about it, anyway. You’ll like it. We’re starting from the ground up, so you’ll be there from the beginning. You have an English degree, right?”
“Right,” I confirm.
“Your mom said you don’t have anything right now, so I thought…”
I groan. “So you thought you’d offer me some charity?”
He smirks a little. “I thought I’d offer to help out the daughter of my old dead friend. It’s the least I can do.”
I glare at him, suddenly angry. I don’t know why he’s talking to me like this. I get that he’s rich and successful, but I’m not just some little girl anymore.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“Sure, think about it. But I want you in the office on Monday.”
I make an exasperated noise and put down my fork. “Look, that’s in just a few days. I’m not just going to drop everything and take this job just because you feel bad about my dad.”
He takes a bite of his lobster, chews slowly, and finally sips his whiskey. “Look, it’s not just that,” he says finally. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was going to offer you a job. But you passed my interview.”