Chapter 93 - 92 A Dinner Reservation
**[ALISTAIR]**
"I heard nothing," Warren admits. His tone turns slightly serious. "The acoustic paneling in those VIP booths is completely soundproof. But I saw his face. Whatever she sold him, he bought the entire inventory. You need to secure your grip on her, Alistair. Because if you let her go, she is going to conquer this entire city without you."
The call disconnects.
I lower the phone. I stare blankly at a row of pristine silk ties.
Warren is right. She is building a fortress. She is quietly assembling the weapons and the allies she needs to become entirely independent. If I do not figure out exactly what she is planning, I am going to lose her.
I stare at the dark screen of my smartphone. The quiet hum of the climate control system is the only sound inside the massive walk-in closet.
Warren hung up on me yesterday before I finished issuing my orders. That is unacceptable, and now, I have to put another call across to him.
I tap his name on the glass screen and hit redial. I pace down the center aisle, stepping past a row of pristine leather dress shoes. The line connects on the very first ring.
"I was not finished speaking, Warren," I state flatly.
"I gave you the information you wanted," Warren replies. The ice in his glass clinks sharply over the speaker. "She conquered Victor Sterling. What more do you need to know tonight?"
"I need you to fix the ridiculous domestic headache you just created," I say. I run a hand through my hair. "Your little espionage game caused a massive misunderstanding. Emily is currently convinced that you harbor a secret, passionate crush on me."
Complete silence stretches over the phone connection for three full seconds.
Then, Warren bursts into laughter. It is a loud, entirely unrestrained sound that forces me to pull the phone slightly away from my ear.
"She thinks I want to sleep with you?" Warren asks, completely out of breath. "Alistair, your wife is a spectacular creature. That is the funniest thing I have heard all year."
"I am thrilled for your entertainment," I snap coldly. "It is highly annoying for me. She actually accused you of acting like a jealous ex-girlfriend. She thinks you sent me that photograph purely out of spite because you want my undivided attention."
Warren chuckles. He takes a sip of his drink.
"I apologize for the misunderstanding," Warren says smoothly. "But you have to admit, the entire situation is highly unusual. I was merely curious about her relationship with Victor. I saw a young woman verbally destroy an arrogant CEO and then calmly negotiate with another. She is a highly fascinating woman, Alistair. You can’t blame me for taking a personal interest in her methods."
The violent, territorial rage flares up in my chest again. Hearing another predator call my wife fascinating is a direct threat to my sanity.
"Keep your interest entirely to yourself," I warn him. My voice is harsh and completely unforgiving. "Stay far away from her like I said. You do not observe her. You do not speak to her."
"You are incredibly protective of a woman you claim is just a business contract," Warren notes.
"She is carrying the Wolfe heir," I reply instantly. I use the baby as my impenetrable shield. "That makes her my absolute priority. You are going to clear this up. You are going to look her in the eyes and explain your intrusive behavior."
"Fine," Warren agrees. He sounds highly amused by my demands. "Bring her to the restaurant tomorrow evening. I will grovel properly."
"You will," I confirm. I end the call and slide the phone back into my tuxedo pocket.
The bright morning sun slices through the heavy velvet curtains of the master bedroom.
I stand near the foot of the massive four-poster bed. I am already dressed for the day. My tailored charcoal suit fits perfectly. The sharp scent of my cedar cologne mixes with the rich aroma of dark roast coffee sitting on the bedside table.
Emily shifts under the thick white down comforter.
She turns over slowly. Her dark hair is a messy, tangled halo against the pristine white silk pillows. She blinks her eyes open. The sleep slowly fades from her expression, replaced instantly by her usual sharp, calculating intelligence. She sits up and pushes the heavy blankets down to her waist. She wears a simple silk camisole. The thick medical bandages are still wrapped tightly around her palms.
She looks at me standing at the foot of the bed. She doesn’t smile.
"Are you standing there just to be creepy, or do you have an actual purpose this morning?" Emily asks. Her voice is thick with sleep, but her attitude is already fully awake.
I ignore the insult. I reach out and adjust the silver cufflinks on my sleeves.
"I want you to prepare yourself," I instruct her. "We have a dinner reservation tonight."
Emily narrows her dark eyes. She reaches over and picks up her steaming mug of black coffee. She holds the warm ceramic carefully between her bandaged hands.
"I am busy tonight," she replies simply. "I have highly confidential manufacturing contracts to review with Victor. Send your assistant to cancel the reservation."
"The reservation is at Bordeaux 101," I state. "We are going to meet a friend of mine. It is not a request, Emily."
She stops completely. The coffee mug hovers inches from her lips. She lowers the cup slowly back to the saucer. Her sharp mind connects the pieces of information in less than two seconds.
She looks directly into my eyes. The blank, unreadable mask falls over her features.
"A friend," Emily repeats. She tilts her head slightly to the side. "Let me guess. Does this particular friend own the restaurant? Does he enjoy hiding behind curtains with a camera?"
"He does," I confirm. "And he is highly eager to speak with you."
Emily lets out a short, completely humorless laugh. She pushes the covers off her legs and swings her feet over the edge of the mattress.
"Warren Sinclair is not my friend," Emily says flatly. She stands up. The silk camisole stops at her upper thighs. She walks right past me toward the master bathroom. "But fine. If your stalker business partner wants to see me again, I will gladly accommodate him. I have a few choice words prepared for him anyway."
She walks into the bathroom and shuts the heavy oak door firmly behind her.
I stand alone in the sunlit bedroom. I stare at the closed door. She isn’t intimidated by Warren’s wealth or his influence. She is simply annoyed by his existence. I button my suit jacket. Tonight is going to be incredibly entertaining.