“This way. I want to share it with you before Daveed is ready to go,” he instructed before taking off.
I glanced over at David, who was making small talk with stragglers, then decided to go. I’d only followed because after being out with him more than a half dozen times, I didn’t fear him kidnapping me. Plus, he and David usually left together whenever Jacques visited.
I followed him all the way into his chauffeured Maybach and clutched my bags at my side, not getting comfortable. He handed me a paper bag and I pulled out a cloth pouch from the tissue paper inside and found a classic quilted leather wallet with the Chanel emblem. A conspicuous note lay underneath.
It read:
Elizabeth, you must be some lady. I only give limited editions to friends.
Enjoy,
Karl Lagerfeld.
“You wear women’s accessories?” I joked, making a mental note to Google one Karl Lagerfeld.
Jacques’ head rolled back in laughter. “You have some sense of humor, don’t you, Elizabeth?”
I flicked my brows, unmoved and confused. “So they say,” I murmured. “But I thought I explained, extravagant attempts won’t get you far with me.”
Jacques shrugged as he repositioned himself in his seat. He, too, appeared unmoved by my rejection.
“You are one tough cookie, as you Americans say. However, don’t underestimate me. I know exactly how to arouse your kind, my feisty, ambitious Elizabeth.” I was intrigued. “Your pitch in class tonight, traditionalists like Daveed, would believe it was…ah…how do you say? …overzealous?” He tilted his head. “But for a credible businessman like me, I see the hunger.”
“And?” I didn’t have time for the circular babble.
“And there’s a way to get what you want.”
“Okay…”
“You need investors…capital investors. I can help you find them…or be the sole one.” His one brow peaked.
I scoffed, “Oh, most definitely not. You want into my panties, Moreau. You’re the last person I’d accept capital from. Your motives…or morals aren’t well vested. But you do have my attention on assisting to find them.”
He shrugged again. “With what you shared, you’re starting small, modest product output. You don’t need much funding. I have a few friends who still engage in small investments.”
“You have my ear,” I inclined, not caring that I was now exposing my keen interest, desperation.
He grinned his sly grin. “That, my dear Elizabeth, will take the investment of your time. I don’t have it right now as I’m awaiting my associate. How about discussing it over dinner?”
And there it was. The offer I couldn’t refuse. I wanted to start my business. The possibility was so palpable, I could taste it. Jacques must have smelled it because the next thing I knew, he drew closer to me. So close…he touched me…intimately.
“You think too hard. It’s just dinner.” The smooth pad of his thumb softly swiped the lining of my bottom lip. I didn’t flinch. “We will talk business first, and then we will explore the possibility of being more than associates. Perhaps…friends of the type where I get to replace my thumb with my tongue. Hmmm?” he growled.
My breath caught, but my eyes remained soft. Oh, Jacques definitely had my attention. We stayed that way for a few seconds before he presented his business card. Slowly, but without hesitance, I took it.
“Good night, Moreau,” I bade quietly before exiting his car.
~~~~~~~~~~