An odd look flashed across Leo’s face. “Thank you. Please keep our visit quiet. I hope to surprise my brother tomorrow.”
“At the Christmas party, yes?” The dumpy man with the Italian accent nodded with a smile. “My nephew works in your mail room. He is looking forward to it.”
“Tell him to introduce himself if he gets a chance.”
Leo held Phoebe’s chair as she was seated and then joined her on the opposite side of the table. He handed her a menu. “I have my favorites, but you should take a look. They make everything from scratch, and it’s all pretty amazing.”
After they ordered, Phoebe cocked her head and stared at him with a smile. “Does everyone in Atlanta know who you are?”
“Hardly. I’m just the guy who writes the checks.”
“Modest, but suspect.”
“It’s true,” he insisted. “I’m not a player, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t have the traditional little black book full of names?”
“My phone is black. And a few of the contacts are women.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I’ll plead the Fifth Amendment.”
Phoebe enjoyed the dinner immensely. Leo was wearing a beautiful navy-and-gray tweed blazer with dark slacks. Even battle-scarred, he was the most impressive man in the room. Despite his size, he handled his fragile wineglass delicately, his fingers curled around the stem with care.
Thinking about Leo’s light touch made Phoebe almost choke on a bite of veal. When she had drained her water glass and regained her composure, Leo grinned. “I don’t know what you were thinking about, but your face is bright red.”
“You’re the one with the sex injury,” she pointed out.
“Fair enough.” His lips twitched, and his gaze promised retribution later for her refusal to explain.
On the way home, it started to rain. Phoebe loved the quiet swish of the wipers and the fuzzy glow of Christmas decorations in every window. Leo turned down a side street and parked at the curb. He stared through the windshield, his expression oddly intent, his hands clenched on the steering wheel.
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
He glanced at her, eyes hooded. “Nothing’s wrong. Would you mind if we go up to my office?”
She craned her neck, for the first time seeing the Cavallo name on the building directory. “Of course not.” He was acting very strangely.
Leo exited the car, opened an umbrella and came around the car to help her out. Fortunately her shoes were not expensive, because her feet tripped through the edge of a puddle as they accessed the sidewalk.
She shivered while he took a set of keys from his pocket and opened the main door. The plate glass clunked shut behind them. “Over there,” Leo said. Again, using his private keys, they entered a glossy-walled elevator.
Phoebe had seen dozens of movies where lovers used a quick ride to sneak a passionate kiss. Leo clearly didn’t know the plot, because he leaned against the wall and studied the illuminated numbers as they went higher and higher. Cavallo occupied the top twelve floors.
When they arrived at their destination, Phoebe was not surprised to see all the trappings of an elite twenty-first-century business. A sleek reception area decorated for the season, secretarial cubicles, multiple managerial offices and, at the far end of the floor on which they entered, an imposing door with Leo’s name inscribed on a brass panel.
Another key, another entry. They skirted what was obviously the domain of an executive assistant and walked through one last door.
Leo stopped so suddenly, she almost ran into his back. She had a feeling he had forgotten her presence. He moved forward slowly, stopping to run a hand along the edge of what was clearly his desk. The top was completely bare, the surface polished to a high sheen.
Leo turned to her suddenly, consternation on his face. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, pointing to a leather chair and ottoman near the window. “That’s where I like to sit when I have paperwork to read through. I won’t be long.”
She did as he suggested, noting that much like his sophisticated home, his place of business, arguably the epicenter of his life, had two transparent walls. The dark, rainy night beyond the thick glass was broken up by a million pinpoints of light, markers of a city that scurried to and fro.
As she sat down and propped her feet on the ottoman, she relaxed into the soft, expensive seat that smelled of leather and Leo’s distinctive aftershave. The faint aroma made her nostalgic suddenly for the memory of curling up with him on her sofa, enjoying the Christmas tree and watching the fire.