Rushed

The convention center was a lot of the same, with most of the men wearing dull, drab suits that looked like they were all made in the same factory and handed out to American businessmen along with one of three options in ties. Still, as things started, I quickly got into the zone and started to enjoy my work.

The key to my task at the Seattle convention was not to set up a booth. My family didn’t have the presence nor the available manpower to send such an entourage. Instead, my father trusted me to do what I did best, which was use all of my six-foot-two inches (in heels) and thirty-eight inches each of chest and hip to get the attention of the people at the convention, and then use my brains to complete the work and make the connections. We weren't planning on making any immediate sales, but instead to make the sort of introductions and inroads that could lead to future sales. That didn't mean I didn't have sales forms with me, but they were kept in my small folder case.

My immediate target, of course, were the churrascaria chains, the Brazilian barbecue places that could use the fact that my family offered authentic Brazilian beef for export as a selling point to their customers. So my immediate target list of people to talk to included Fogo de Chao, Rum Jungle, and Texas de Brazil. But, if the opportunity arose, I'd be happy to talk to any of the chains or even the few supermarkets that were at the convention.

In the morning, I was able to talk to the lead representative from Texas de Brazil, who sounded interested in what my family had to offer. After exchanging information, he talked with me for nearly twenty minutes, and for the most part, he kept his eyes where they were supposed to be. I was certain that he would actually give our offices in Brazil a call soon in order to get some of our winter cattle, although he stopped short on actually filling out an order form.

Skipping lunch, I used the opportunity to make some of the smaller connections I'd sought for after seeing the big players leave their booths for lunch. However, the little places, the single restaurants or small chains that were looking for anything they could as every penny was precious to them, stayed at their booths or kept circulating, hustling to make deals and connections. It was capitalism and business in its truest form, which to me was both intoxicating and dangerous. If you let yourself become too desperate or too content, you’d fail. On the outside, you have to look confident and unconcerned, but on the inside, you’re ready to jump at almost any opportunity that comes your way.

By one thirty, I was pleasantly tired, and the rumble in my stomach reminded me that I was supposed to have coffee with Tomasso Bertoli. As I finished my last conversation and went to a quieter area of the convention center to check my phone for messages, I thought about him. He was handsome—that was undeniable. He had wide shoulders and a powerfully built body that rippled with muscle even under the suit I'd seen him in. His dark brown hair reminded me of freshly ground coffee in color, and his eyes were a deep hazel amber that certainly let him charm his way into many a woman's bed, I was sure.

Despite being the daughter of a crime lord, I had a bad habit of losing myself when it came to men, including an incident in college where I thought I'd fallen in love with a professor. He'd used me as a 'side piece,' as I came to know the term later, while all the time, he stayed with his society wife. I'd been so ashamed that I hadn't even told my father, and since then, I hadn't seriously considered a man for anything more than to fill a need.

However, Tomasso Bertoli wasn’t a man that I could just play with. He wasn’t a man that I could just use to fill that particular need. Sure, he was sexy, but I needed to maintain at least a polite relationship with him in order to increase the chances of our families working together.

I saw that there was a message on my phone when I pulled it out, and that it was from him. He sent me a message at noon, saying he'd be by the convention center whenever I was ready. I hit the dial button and waited.

"Hello?" Tomasso said when he picked up, and I couldn't help but smile at the sound of his voice, even as I tried to fight it. "Luisa?"

"Yes, Tomasso, it’s me. I got your message. Are you in the area?"

"Yes, I was just doing a little shopping at a store nearby. Are you on break?" he said, sounding less cocky than he had the night before. "If so, I can meet you in about ten minutes."

"That sounds fine. I'll be in the north side of the building. Can you meet me there?"

"That would be great. I'll see you in less than ten."

He hung up, and I had to admit that his tone of anticipation bled over onto me. I was looking forward to seeing him. I started heading toward the north exit slowly, pausing to check out a few booths and drop off my business card.

I waited by the north entrance and was surprised when he walked up. Instead of the slicked back, buttoned down wise guy I'd expected from the day before, he'd gone more casual, with a pair of jeans and a shirt. "Hello."

He stopped, looking at me. "Wow. You look beautiful. I mean, not that you didn’t last night.”