Did Hugo lead him to believe we were together? If that were the case, how unscrupulous would the man have to be to openly flirt with a woman he thought belonged to another?A very rich man, that’s what.
“Well, as I was saying, I will most likely work tomorrow night and a few nights after that, until we secure the needed investment.”
I chanced another look toward Hugo, who was looking at me with actual friendliness for once, somehow reminding me of the version of him I’d met at the bar. He knew I was doing my best to help him. I gave him a small smile.
“I see…” James nodded before grabbing his phone from his inside pocket.
I waited a couple of seconds, but when he didn’t add anything, I thought he’d just moved on, and I couldn’t help but be a little hurt by his quick dismissal.
I grabbed my spoon to dig into the truffle risotto that had just been set in front of me when James put the phone on the table and looked at Hugo.
“Tell me, St-John, how much investment would you need from me for Ms. Byrnes to take tomorrow night off?”
I let my fork fall on my plate, making a very unceremonious sound.
“Excuse me?” Hugo asked him, obviously as surprised as I was.
“You heard me—how much will it be to allow me to take this charming lady out?”
I frowned, feeling like the whore Hugo accused me of being. “I don’t—”
“Seventy million pounds,” Hugo replied coldly.
My mouth dropped open and all my previous objections were overshadowed by my surprise. Seventy million? Was he mad? It was actuallyallthe money he needed!
Nobody would be insane enough to ever pay that for—
“Fine.” James grabbed his phone again and started to type something.
“Fine?” Hugo asked at the same time as one of the men at the table who seemed to have finally found his voice.
James nodded. “Yes, I just emailed my lawyer—he’ll be waiting for a contract in the morning. I’ll invest double. I think with one hundred and forty million you shouldn’t need Ms. Byrnes in the evening for the foreseeable future.”
“Hey, Harding, I wanted to invest too!” the man from before said with an indignation that sounded fake even to my untrained ears.
James snorted. “No, you didn’t, Bunberry. You just wanted a free meal and a little ass kissing.” He shook his head before looking at me again. “Tomorrow night? 7 pm?”
“I—ummm… y-yes,” I replied, nodding slowly, still not processing the whole thing.
Did that man just spend one hundred and forty million to spend an evening with me? No, that was ridiculous. I’d read Hugo’s investment papers for this huge luxury holiday resort and it was a sound investment. James was just trying to annoy him, and knowing Hugo, he probably deserved it.
“Perfect.” He stood up, buttoning his jacket. “I think we've moved past any false pretenses and if it wasn’t for you, Ms. Byrnes, this evening would have been the most tedious of my life. I will not insult you by pretending to need your address or phone number. This will be at my disposal before I exit this restaurant.” He turned his head toward Hugo. “St-John, thank you for bringing the most beautiful jewel I’ve ever had the chance to meet, and I look forward to our prosperous partnership.” He turned toward the other guests. “Scroungers, Barbies…I’d like to say it was a pleasure, but again, we’re way past the lies.” He winked at me, swirled and left.
I kept my eyes on his lean form and perfectly tailored gray suit as he walked to the door.
The power radiating from him was insane, and yet it didn’t stir the same feelings in me that Hugo did. No, I suspected that Hugo’s infuriating pull was all him.
We still finished the meal, mainly in uncomfortable silence. The few times I looked up, I could see Hugo’s pensive eyes on me. There was no animosity or reproach there, only speculation, and I was not sure how comfortable I was with that either.
Once we were done with dessert, Hugo pushed his plate away and looked at the two men sitting at the end of the table. “So, are we going to pretend you want to invest and waste the next hour in useless information knowing you will not? Or are we calling it a night and you can go back to your hotel with a sense of accomplishment that you ended up eating a seven-hundred-pound-per-person meal without spending a penny?”
Seven hundred?I looked down at the barely-eaten chocolate cake, suddenly feeling guilty for not finishing my food. I used to love chocolate but since my pregnancy, it felt like my body rejected it.
I looked up when the two men started to babble some excuse under their breath as they stood up and directed their wives to do the same.
“Wise decision. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Hugo told them with a nod as I rested my napkin on the table, expecting us to follow suit, but Hugo remained firmly seated as he gestured our waiter forward.
“I—” I looked around the now empty table. “Do you want me to take an Uber home?”