The Allure of Dean Harper

To: Dean Harper

Subject: Re: Re: Re: LVRW



Don’t you think that’s a little premature? We haven’t even picked a location yet…



-Lily



From: Dean Harper

To: Lily Black

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: LVRW



See last email.



D. Harper



From: Lily Black

To: Dean Harper

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: LVRW



Fine, I’ll work on the list.



-Lily





I tricked myself into thinking that email communication with Lily was harmless, even though every time her name hit my inbox, I felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. Then, two weeks after returning to New York, Antonio Acosta sent me an email and I reluctantly scheduled a team meeting. I’d have to face her whether I wanted to or not.

As I rounded the corner into the employees-only hallway, I could hear the team chatting in the back office and my grip tightened around the papers in my hand at the sound of Lily’s voice.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said.

“I know. Anything new with you?” Zoe asked.

I rounded the corner of my office and stared at the back of Lily’s blonde hair. “Oh god, Jo set me up on a blind date for later this week. I need some advice—”

I stepped into the office and closed the door with a loud slam. Listening to Lily discuss a blind date was on par with getting a root canal. She twisted around to stare daggers at me, but I pretended not to notice. I went around the group and handed each of them a printout of the email I’d received from Antonio the night before. Once everyone had a copy, I took a seat on the edge of my desk and watched them read through it.

Julian finished first, his brows arched to his hairline.

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting this,” he said.

I nodded and purposely focused anywhere but Lily. I wasn’t good about acknowledging the error of my ways, and if I knew her as well as I thought I did, she wasn’t going to let the email slide without gloating.

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m confused,” she said, staring up at me. “Could you explain what this email means? Just in case I’m reading it wrong?”

Zoe laughed.

She wasn’t reading it wrong. She wanted to hear me explain it out loud because she was infuriating.

I crossed my arms and finally let myself look at her. Her full lips were twisted into a smirk and the glint in her eye proved she knew what she was doing. She was wearing a sleeveless blue dress that left her long legs on display. Her hair was pulled over her right shoulder so that I could admire the curve of her neck. She tapped her finger against the email impatiently. She was demanding and breathtaking.

I cleared my throat. “Antonio Acosta sent us a revised list of dishes for our menu. He apologized for his lack of preparedness in Vegas. I don’t think he gave a valid excuse as to why his original suggestions were shit. Regardless, the new dishes look great and we will definitely be flying him out soon for another tasting.”

Her smirk widened. “Just so we’re clear, Antonio sent us revised dishes for no reason whatsoever? Out of the kindness of his own heart?”

I gripped the edge of the desk and I shook my head. “You want me to commend your behavior in that meeting, Lily, but I won’t do it. You were rude and disrespectful. On any other day, a chef as hotheaded as Antonio would have smeared us in the press. We’re lucky he was feeling generous.”

She huffed out a breath of air and crossed her arms.

“Have we decided on the name yet?” Julian asked, changing the subject before Lily and I dominated the rest of the meeting with an argument.

“I’m still working on it. I’ve got a few in mind though.”

“I’ve been coordinating with the graphic designer you hired in Vegas,” Zoe said, directing the meeting toward her work. “Obviously, we can’t do much without a name, but we’ve begun to work on basic branding. You’ve told us what aesthetic you’d like for the restaurant, so once we have the name we can home in on what logo would work best.”

“Have you forwarded me that progress?” I asked.

She nodded. “Everyone should have it in their inbox.”

“Good.” I turned to Hunter and his eyes widened. “How is the search going for the restaurant space?”

He swallowed and pulled at the collar of his shirt, trying to loosen its hold around his neck. “Um. Yeah. I’ve been looking, but there’s not much out there. Whole lotta rough, not many diamonds.”

I narrowed my eyes. That’s not what I wanted to hear. “I’m not looking for anything polished, just something we can work with. You’re telling me there are no available leases in Manhattan?”

Was that his attempt at a bad joke?

His cheeks flamed. “It’s just a tough market right now and I think…it’s just…”

He was rambling and it made no sense. Hunter had helped me find the spaces for my last four restaurants and he’d never once had a problem.

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