Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon(5)

Carl grinned as Andros approached, and gestured to his drink—whisky by the looks of it. “You’ll join me?”

Andros shook his head. “Just coffee for me. Espresso.”

With a flick of his fingers, Carl sent the escort off to the bar. Andros didn’t quite frown, but allowed his mouth to settle into a tight line. Like most rich people, Carl saw no reason to actually speak to the staff. That was not a position Andros approved of. He’d waited tables in his very young years, cleaned out warehouses—hell, he’d done whatever it took to put a few American dollars in his pocket. And as his own fortunes had grown, one thing he had stuck with was an unflinching politeness to the people that worked for him. It encouraged loyalty, and as a Sicilian by birth, loyalty was important to Andros.

“How long do I have you for today?” Carl asked, folding up his copy of the FT. “I know you said on the phone that you were juggling other meetings. I appreciate you fitting me in at all.”

“I can spare but a half hour,” Andros replied.

Carl laughed. “I should be grateful for even that should I not?”

Andros shrugged, and leaned back as the escort approached with the drinks Carl had ordered. He nodded his thanks to the staff member, noting, with another sting of annoyance, that Carl did not.

“If we’d met at my offices,” he said slowly. “I could have arranged a full hour to discuss your venture.”

Carl picked up his drink, the ice tinkling in the glass as he did so. “This is fine. I know how busy you are, and as I said, I’ll be very brief.”

“Of course.”

After a swallow, Carl placed his glass back on the table and rubbed his hands together. “So what we’re looking to do here is all about…”

Andros leaned back in his chair as the other man spoke, though his attention was only half on him. Carl had already sent him all the venture information by email. He’d looked it all over, ordered some background checks and such. There was nothing that Carl could tell him that he didn’t already know. This meeting was, in Andros’ mind, just a chance to reconnect with Lord Ainsley. It was all about seeing if he was as passionate about his venture as he’d seemed in his email, and certainly, it looked that way. Carl spoke with gusto, gesturing to make his point. Andros approved.

“What’s the ballpark figure?” he asked after a few minutes.

Carl raised an eyebrow at being cut off. “You don’t want me to go over the rest of the information? I have some files in my case.”

“There’s no need.”

Carl gave a sum, and grinned when Andros nodded slowly. “You don’t even blink at that figure, Andros?”

“I’ve been asked for a lot more.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“The amount is not an issue,” Andros said, lifting his espresso cup. “But I do want to know, why come to me with this? Your family has plenty of money, no? You were still on the Times Rich List last year, I noted.”

Carl’s grin widened. “The family certainly does not want for funds, that is true. But it is a different situation than you would find yourself in.”

“Explain.”

He shrugged. “Most of our money, the family’s I mean, is tied up into the estate. We have only specific amounts that we allow into creative ventures such as these. Whilst your funds…”

Andros nodded. “Are for me to use as I see fit.”

“Exactly. The joys of being a self-made man and not from old money.”

“I do not doubt that you will eclipse your family’s fortune in time,” Andros said and Carl smiled even as he shook his head.

“I’m not sure about that. I had some impressive ancestors.”

“Either way we will shake hands on this now, and arrange a meeting with my wider team next week to iron out the details.”

“Excellent.”

They clicked glass to espresso cup, and Andros leaned back in his chair again, satisfied to have the deal wrapped up in under ten minutes. Ainsley was a good man; they would work well together, and for once, he had a small window of free time. Andros took a small sip of the rich coffee and eyed the menu on the table. Did he have time enough to eat? Probably not, but one thing Club Belmont did do was decent food.

“Are you dining?” he asked Carl.

“Actually,” Carl said, downing the last of his whisky, and grinning. “I thought I’d follow up my initial offer, actually.”

“Offer?”

“Before you arrived I made my opening salvo. I think it is now time to make sure the lady in red does not refuse a second drink.”