A Billionaire's Secret Baby - Chapter 6

Igot Lola a cab home. After she disappeared into the night, I called my driver to take me home, where I fell into a deep sleep.

I thought I’d wake up feeling satisfied. That I’d feel like the longing in my heart was over. But if anything, I only felt more restless. The feeling of Lola’s body against mine, our secret passion on display in my office. What would someone say if they found out? I didn’t care. All I could think of was her—even now, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I could see her gentle face, the freckles around her eyes, could hear the sweet and melodious sound of her voice. I pictured her making one of her sassy comebacks, and it made me feel curiously happy.

I needed to clear my head, and since I had a free morning, I decided I’d give myself a treat. I called for my helicopter, which was on standby at a warehouse in Jersey. Within forty minutes, we were taking off. A good run would help me think things through.

I had my pilot fly me upstate to Breakneck Ridge, with instructions to pick me up at the end of the trail. Within less than twenty minutes, we were there. It was a tricky descent among the rocky mountaintops, but before long, I was at the head of the trail, looking down across the pines and over the gorgeous blue of Lake Surprise. It was 7.00am. There wasn’t a soul around. And I happily jogged away up the Hudson valley, looking down the river to New York in the distance, letting myself get lost in the rhythms of my breathing. I went twice up to the trail and around the loop—around 9 miles in total. It had been a while since I’d run such a distance, and by the time the pilot came to pick me up from our agreed meeting point, I was exhausted.

When we got back I showered and changed, and then made my way into town. I’d gotten a call from Luca the other day asking to meet me there for lunch the next day.

When I arrived, I saw him immediately, and noticed with some irritation that he’d occupied one of the booths at the end of the restaurant. It could easily have seated six diners.

“Can’t we sit at a table for two?” I said.

“Come on, ‘Lex!” he said. “What’s the point of owning all this if we can’t enjoy it now and then?”

“We own the profits,” I grumbled, but sat down with him. I noticed that, most unusually, Luca had actually prepared documents for the meeting we were about to have. Normally he liked to let his assistant send everything over to me, and hated having to do any work himself. His news must be pretty exciting. But having fasted that morning, I was ravenous for something to eat, so I asked the kitchen to prepare me a fillet mignon, with a salad and a side of mashed potatoes.

“Sounds good,” said Luca. “I’ll have the same. And maybe a bottle of something?” He looked at me as if I had a suggestion.

“I’m fine,” I said tersely. I’d noticed that Luca’s account at the restaurant had been growing recently, including an outrageous order for a bottle of Dom Perignon last week. I knew he liked to show off to his buddies—all less successful than him—but I thought it would be good for both of us if we had a clear head. “Let’s just have water,” I said when Cherise came to take our order.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “You can’t have lunch without wine.”

“One glass,” I said.

“’Lex, ‘Lex,” he said, chuckling. “You treat me like a kid sometimes, huh? When are you going to let me make some of the big decisions? I’m the same age as you, huh? Don’t I deserve to be making my own billions, some day?”

“You’re a smart guy, Luca,” I said. “So you tell me: which of the two gets to make the decisions. The guy who has a 65% stake in The Blue Orchid, or the guy who has a 20% stake?”

Luca grinned, but I got the feeling he was a little annoyed at me. He was unusually impatient that evening. “You’ve got a point, I guess.”

“Besides,” I added. “Think about it for a second. No one makes billions just from owning restaurants. Unless you happen to be a major franchising operation or something. Restaurants have never been that profitable. It’s not what we’re in the business for.”

Luca looked at me, and his eyes widened, as though I’d made an excellent point. “Right,” he said, quietly. “Right ‘Lex. Goddamn, you’re smart! I always knew this guy was smart!”

“So, come on. What’s the big news? Been a long time since you got me down here to have a look at something.”

Luca grinned. “I had a couple of things to sort out,” he said. “Few meetings. That’s why I’ve been out of town lately.”

“Where have you been?”

“Vegas,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”

I shrugged. Luca’s skin had always been tanned—he was from an Italian family, and had grown up in the Bronx. Like me, his life hadn’t always been so easy. But his deep brown eyes gleamed as he pulled out the documents and put them in front of me.

“What are these?” I said. “Planning permission?”

“All we’re waiting for,” said Luca, “is your signature, boss. But I want you to look through it. Take your time. I know you’ve got a good eye for the details. And I want to hear you out on everything.”

I sighed, and looked down at the papers. There was a plan, drafted by an architect. For some kind of hotel?

“What is this?” I said. “You’re building a hotel?”

“Not a hotel,” he said. “A casino.”

Casino? I looked at the plans a little more carefully. There were a series of drawings. I picked up the glossy pack Luca had put down. It read:

THE BLUE ORCHID CASINO

MANHATTAN’S FIRST LUXURY GAMBLING HOTEL

I looked up at my business partner. He was grinning.

“Three licenses are up,” he said, holding up three fingers, “for gambling in the city of New York. And if we sign these papers and put in the application, we could have one of them, ‘Lex. New York could be ours! Just imagine! The first casino in the city, right here,” he said, gesturing around at the restaurant.

“What?” I said.

“You said it yourself. Restaurant—that’s a small-time game. These are the big leagues. They’re finally allowing licenses for casinos in the city. This is our chance. We could make it big.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Where are you building this?”

Luca smiled at me, like I was slow.

“Here,” he said. “The Blue Orchid. We’ll keep the name, huh?”

I stared at him.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You want me to sign these documents so we can bulldoze the restaurant and build a casino? Here? In the middle of Manhattan?”

Luca nodded happily. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Luca, this is…I don’t know what to say?”

“Exciting, huh?” said Luca.

“Ridiculous,” I said.

Luca stared at me. We were both motionless. Around us, the restaurant continued to chatter and hum, as lunch service went on.

“This is crazy,” I said. “Luca, The Blue Orchid’s five years old and it’s already one of the most popular restaurants in the city. And you want to just…tear it down?”

“But, the casino…” said Luca, helplessly.

“The casino’s a crock,” I said. “Those licenses aren’t for the city. They’re state-wide. And you know what that means? It means that there’s no way the mayor’s going to let us build a goddamn gambling den in the middle of the Upper East Side. Even if I did okay this—which I’m not, by the way, I would never, ever okay this. The Blue Orchid is my flagship restaurant. It’s the most profitable restaurant in America, and I am not going to let it be broken just because you’re looking for an easy fix.”

“I think if you just take a look—”

“I’m not taking a look!” I snarled, and suddenly I felt like a storm cloud had gathered around me. I’d squared my shoulders in the booth, and Luca seemed to have shrunk back. “You’re an idiot—you’re behaving like a child. And when it was just ordering champagne and comping your buddies’ tables, it was fine. But you’ve disappointed me, Luca. And you’ve nearly embarrassed yourself. Jesus, you didn’t tell Zeke or anyone else about this, did you? The shareholders don’t know, do they?”

“No…but…” said Luca.

“But nothing. This is serious. I can’t explain just what a tremendous waste of my time this is. How much did these plans cost you?”

Then, I saw Luca’s body jerk. It was like watching a kid have a tantrum. He threw his hands into the papers and turned them over. There was an enormous rustling thump, as the documents went spilling over the side of the table.

“We’ll see just who’s embarrassed,” hissed Luca. He stood, and left the restaurant.

Cherise arrived, with a bottle of sparkling water and a glass of Gavi in her hands.

“Did Mr. Desilva leave?” said Cherise. “I’ve got his wine…”

“I think I’ll have it, Cherise,” I said, dumbstruck. “And can you get the busboy to put these in the garbage?” I said, gesturing at the stacks of upturned papers on the table.

***

“You really didn’t have to do him like that,” said Zeke, when I explained what happened. It was the end of lunch service, and we were sitting at the bar.

“I know,” I said. “I was just…angry. This place is my home. Our home.”

“I understand,” he said, flipping his ginger hair to one side of his face. “But you know what I’m going to say.”

“That I should apologize?” I said, weakly. “Control my temper? Take a meditation class?”

“Yup,” grinned Zeke. “So, did he get anyone to work on this?”

“No. From the looks of that shoddy architect’s plan, he probably designed and financed it all himself. Who knows how much money he’s sunk from his own pile into R&D. Let alone how much of ours.”

Zeke nodded.

“How are you guys getting on here?” I said. “How’s Lola?”

“Incredible,” said Zeke. “Ain’t that right, Andy?”

Andy looked up from behind the bar and nodded. “She ain’t too clever with her Burgundies yet. But she could go in for wine sommelier training if she wanted, boss. Girl knows her stuff.”

“Actually I think she’d be a good fit for Shift Manager,” said Zeke. “Since Charley left I’ve been doing it myself.”

“I’d be happy to see her step into that role,” I said. I knew Zeke was only mentioning this so I’d have the okay from him. He was still wary of discussing Lola around me.

“Where is she?” I said.

“Uh, in the cellar,” said Andy. “Stock check on all them old Beaujolais we got down there.”

“You want me to get her?” said Zeke.

“No,” I said, “I’ll say hi.”

I stepped down into the cellar. It was a warm day in New York, in the low seventies, and inside the cellar, it felt cool. I wandered among the racks of wine, my feet sounding quietly on the flagstones.

Then, I saw Lola. She was working in the back office of the wine cellar, a small, cramped room with a standing desk and computer, with a stock sheet on the desk. I watched her bending intently over the sheet, strands of hair falling from her otherwise neat ponytail.

I came to the doorway and stood there, leaning against the frame.

“Good afternoon,” I said.

Lola looked up quickly, in shock. “Oh,” she said, standing up. “Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good thanks,” I said, then added flirtatiously, “all the better for last night.”

Lola looked away. She was blushing, her cheeks turning a gentle shade of pink at the sight of me. I smiled, but she didn’t meet my eyes.

“Are you okay?” I said.

“Yep,” replied Lola.

I grew impatient, and stepped into the office.

“Need any help with anything?” I said.

“Nope,” said Lola brusquely.

There was silence between us, and I felt the atmosphere thicken with tension.

“You know,” I said, “I’m always here.”

Lola didn’t reply.

“Zeke and Andy have a lot of nice things to say about you,” I said. “They tell me you’re really good.”

“That’s nice,” replied Lola curtly, and carried on studying the document. I was beginning to grow frustrated, and eventually, I just came out with it.

“Last night was nice.”

Lola looked up at me curiously.

“Nice?” she said, incredulously.

“Well, better than nice,” I replied.

Lola looked away, and in her green eyes, I could see the glare of the computer screen reflected.

“You know, I’m kind of busy.”

“Can’t we talk? Even for a bit.”

Lola sighed, and looked up at me.

“Last night was a mistake, Alex.”

I stood still, and felt my heart pound a little faster.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, we shouldn’t have done what we did. It wasn’t right.”

“But that’s not…I mean, how can you say that?”

Lola shrugged. “It’s the way I feel.”

“Look, if this is about the job, or anything, I get that. I understand. And I know we’re on thin ice. But I want you to know—”

“Alex,” said Lola. Her shoulders had straightened. She was still smiling—Lola was always smiling. But this time, the smile was hollow. It felt like an act she was putting on for me.

Not like last night, where her joy and her happiness had been plain to see, where I could feel the pleasure I’d given her. Last night she’d been an open book but the woman in front of me today was a stranger. And her face was closed to me.

“Can’t we even talk about it?”

“What is there to talk about,” she said, sighing and standing up. “It was a mistake. I have a daughter at home, Alex. Please don’t come near me again.”

She stood up and walked past me, and as she did, I smelled her perfume, the heady, lingering scent that left me breathless.

“If that’s the way it’s going to be,” I growled.

I turned my head to follow her. Lola stopped.

“It is,” she said, and then I saw her marching up the stairs.

Out of my grasp once again.