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She picks up the martini glass to raise it in the air. “From where I’m sitting, you’re not in a position to keep that much equity.”

Touché.

She has a point. It’s valid, but if I hand over sixty percent of my company to her, she’ll have controlling interest. I didn’t work this hard to give up so much.

“I’ve already spoken with my suppliers and distributors. We can start production at several hundred units a day in a factory that I know does quality work.” She winks at the bartender when he drops off my soda water. “Our handbags will be everywhere.”

That’s not my end goal.

I don’t want to water down my brand so much that it loses its charm. Right now it’s a boutique, personalized offering. I know that I can’t sustain that.

If I want to keep it on the same path, I need to hire people who understand the materials and can craft them into the bags that I design.

I’ve never pictured an assembly line of my purses being made. To me, the vision has always been about a studio that houses women and men who are artisans. Together, we’d make the bags, using the same type of industrial sewing machine that I work on now.

In my wildest dream, I’d have a small storefront where I’d sell the finished products.

“What’s Rocco offering you?” she questions before taking a sip of her drink.

Kisses that curl my toes.

I won’t make that confession to Rhoda because it will cloud everything. Instead, I stick to the script I’ve been playing over and over in my head all day. “Rocco is still preparing his offer.”

One of her long, red fingernails taps the bottom of her glass. “Rocco’s hot as hell, isn’t he?”

I scratch the back of my neck. This little black dress I chose to wear today is a new design from Sophia. I have no idea what the material is, but it’s been irritating my skin since I put it on. “He’s a good-looking man.”

“Don’t let that blind you.” She grins like a Cheshire cat that just trapped a mouse. “I would never call him ruthless, but when it comes to business, he’ll do what he can to seal the deal.”

What happened between Rocco and me last night was all pleasure. There was no business involved.

I haven’t heard from him since I got on the elevator in my building. He didn’t try and influence me to skip this meeting.

“I’m not ready to seal the deal with anyone.”

Rhoda lifts her eyebrows. “Fifty-eight percent equity?”

I shake my head. “I want controlling interest.”

“Smart girl.” She downs the rest of her drink in one large gulp. “I’m going to reconsider my position on this. When will Rocco’s proposal be in your hands?”

“I’ll let you know when I receive it and we can go from there.”

She runs her hands over the crisp white blouse she’s wearing. “You remind me of myself a very long time ago. I held tight to my convictions and look where it’s gotten me.”

I look down at the file folder that contains her offer. “We’ll talk soon.”

She glides to her feet, slinging her designer bag over her shoulder. “You have my number. Call me anytime.”

As if on cue, my phone chimes.

I tug it out of my purse as Rhoda makes her way to the door.

I smile when I glance down at the screen and read the text. The words are simple, but the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

Rocco: I need your help. My grandmother’s birthday is coming up. She needs a new handbag so show me what you’ve got.

Chapter 33


Tags: Deborah Bladon The Calvettis of New York Romance