His brows drew together. “You asked about him?”
She couldn’t tell whether he was happy or upset that she was already one step ahead of him. “I wanted to make sure there were no important new neighbors who were left off the guest list. So, yes, I asked about him. You’re more than welcome to come out with me this Saturday. I know Mark was invited, but I’m not sure if he RSVPd.”
He ran his fingers through his short hair. “Saturday,” he murmured to himself, as though he ran schedules and timetables in his mind. Finally, he looked back to her. “That will work.”
“Great. Now how about Bell Planning? When can we start crunching numbers and making plans?”
He blinked a few times and she tried her hardest not to worry. Hadn’t he already mentioned he was working a job? Combine his actual paying gig with her mess and his beef with DuFord, and Simon might be one of the busiest men in the city. Hopefully her company wouldn’t get pushed to the bottom of his priorities.
“I’m heading to my apartment to get some balls rolling on researching Robert Bar. Until then, keep up as normal. Why don’t we meet for dinner tonight to talk over a few things once I have more of a plan in place?”
Relief swept through her. He wasn’t going to hang her out to dry. He just wanted to get a plan first. “Just tell me where and when,” she said with a smile.
He shot his watch a quick glance. “Probably around six thirty or seven.” Without asking whether that worked for her, he picked up his jacket off the chair and moved to the door. “Don’t worry, Grace. We’ll figure all this out.”
She frowned. The comforting words seemed so out of place for him. As though he’d suddenly remembered to be thoughtful as he was leaving.
“Ditto,” she said. He was obviously dealing with his own demons when it came to DuFord. As long as they both got what they wanted, this would be a partnership made in heaven.
But Grace had a sinking feeling they’d both end up in hell if things didn’t go their way.
CHAPTER FOUR
Simon shut his computer and stretched his arms up. With a roll of his shoulders, he stood and moved out of the office and into the bedroom.
Ever since he’d left the Bell Planning offices, he’d been itching to have a serious brainstorming session about his plan of attack. But first things first. He’d promised Victoria he’d get her the financial projections by the end of the week, showing the various effects of buying the midsize tool manufacturer out in the Midwest.
Now that he’d gotten one of the possible scenarios plotted out, he was ready to start seriously thinking about the DuFord situation. He glanced at the clock on the wall. He still had two hours before he was scheduled to meet with Grace. That would give him just enough time to get a run in.
He quickly changed into shorts, T-shirt, and his sneakers designed especially for city streets. Forgoing the elevator, he took the steps two at a time as he descended the fifteen stories to ground level. He scrolled through his MP3 player, and settled on an up-tempo rock playlist that would keep him at a pace of at least six miles per hour.
The drumbeat started as he reached the warm summer air and he started into his slow jog. As the pavement moved beneath him and he dodged pedestrians, he thought back to his meeting with Grace.
She would be an interesting one to work with. He’d misjudged her and that wasn’t like him. She was smart and calculating, each decision thought out and weighed against the options. Somehow he’d assumed the party planner would be an artistic free spirit. Not a structured businesswoman.
A stereotype, sure, but some stereotypes were there for a reason.
She was probably fantastic at what she did. Able to slide into a room and immediately be best friends with everyone around her. Simon preferred to walk into a room and convince everyone they’d either be screwed or much less rich without his help. Friendship could only get a person so far. Money could get them everywhere.
He’d have to get a copy of her latest income statement as soon as possible and her assessment of her customers already lost. This really would be new territory for him. He’d dealt with press releases before, and done a few interviews, but she was in the middle of a media shitstorm. It would take a hell of a lot to restore her pristine image, but he’d dealt with companies worse off than hers who were led by idiots. She was street savvy and could think on her feet. If he could play this right, saving her company might be the easiest job on his plate.
DuFord…now that bastard was a complete different story. Simon’s jaw clenched as he pictured the cocky son of a bitch, and he picked up the pace until his feet pounded on the pavement. He’d ruined the element of surprise. The last time he’d tried to land DuFord behind bars, one of the key pieces to his plan had backed out last minute. DuFord might not suspect anything, but Simon was definitely not on his list of favorite people.
As far as DuFord was concerned, thanks to Simon’s advice, he’d wasted months trying to get a big mark that bailed. But it had been a good plan.
DuFord made a name for himself by getting massive returns for his clients, but Simon knew he played dirty. The investments he made were risky, and illegal, overseas development projects. The returns could be massive, but when the government got wind of it, DuFord was gone and there was no sign he’d ever facilitated the investment. But the poor sucker who’d assumed the broker put their money in perfectly legit funds was suddenly the center of an investigation, sometimes even ending up in jail.
Simon had tried for years to get his hands on DuFord’s money. The highest form of leverage there was. But now he had something that could be just as enticing. He had a woman to lure DuFord out with.
The pieces started to click in his mind, and Simon relaxed his pace. He was going to nail the bastard once and for all, and Grace was the key.
~~~~~
Grace stared at the bag and back to the driver. “He said what?”
The driver shifted his weight, obviously not enjoying the position Simon put him in. “Sorry, ma’am. Mr. West said you might want to dress up for dinner.”
She shook her head. “He’s out of his mind.” She pulled out her phone. She brought up his text instructing her to meet his car in the front of her building at six o’clock and clicked the Call Send button.
Grace half expected him to blow her off after the stunt he was pulling, but he actually answered on the second ring. “Grace. Are you on your way?”
“What the hell is going on, West?” she demanded.
He was silent for a moment. “I told the driver to tell you. There’s a dress in the back of the car. Change into it and come meet me for dinner.”
She rubbed the back of her neck, wondering how she could’ve ever been so stupid as to believe this idiot could save her company. “This is a work dinner. I’m not getting dressed up for you.”
“Did you at least take a look at the dress?”
“I already said—”
“Just look at it. Please.”
Her brows drew together at his plea. She doubted he was the type to use the word “please” a lot, and she couldn’t shake the image of him smirking as he said it. Even as she thought up a suitable insult to throw at him, she pulled the garment from the bag, and smoothed the layer of plastic protecting it. “What the hell?” she breathed.