here.”
“Surely I do. Take a seat on the couch over here. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Whiskey? I have it all. ”
“Uh, coffee,” I said.
“Right, give me a moment then.”
I heard him rattling around in the kitchen, moving pots and pans. I sat there staring at the inside of the house, fascinated by the size. What could he possibly need all of this space for? I guess this might have been his parents’ home, so maybe he wasn’t even responsible for the excess. But—
“Alright, here you are.” He handed me a drink with beautiful latte art resting on the top, a leaf. “That’s the only object I can make. I do hope it’s acceptable.”
I laughed. “Yes, it’s beautiful.” I s ipped it— sweet, but not too sweet. The coffee was sensational. “Wow, this is great!” It warmed me as it went down my throat—just as his hand had earlier.
“ I'm better at the drinks than the art. I’ve become quite the e xpert in coffee-related things. I know you asked for just coffee, but for some reason I thought a latte would be more appropriate. ” He sat down in big leather chair across from where I was on the couch. “So let’s talk business. I’m sure you’ve got some questions for me.”
I finished my sip and tried to put myself back together. “Yes, yes, Mr. Starland. I’ve got many questions for you.”
“Please, call me Ro land . You’re in my home with me, a guest. We don’t need to adhere to silly social conventions here.”
That hit me a little off guard. Here I was in business attire, ready to professionally deal with one of the richest men in the world. “ Uh, okay. Roland .”
“You probably want to know about StarChem. Shame what happened with that illegal dumping in India.”
“Yes, Mr. Star—Roland. Are you accepting responsibility for that disaster? What are you doing about it?” I suddenly felt empowered, like I could dig into his mind. I felt like regular old determine d Marisa again.
“That’s a big question, Marisa. I don’t think we can talk about that right now.”
Shit. He was already closing up. Time to try a gain . “What about the unlawful evictions that Starland Realty has been associated with? The banking fraud? The forged books?”
Roland sat there, staring at the bea utiful, high walls of his house, totally unfazed by my questioning. Certainly a man this rich had dealt with things much more intense than my humble questioning. “Marisa, I know what you’re doing here. I think you’re moving a bit too fast. If we were romantically—well, never mind that.” A wicked smile formed across his face, one that held me captive, wondering what it meant. “I know that you’ve got all the time you need with me. Why should we spoil such fun on the first day?”
I didn’t even know what to say. How could he know that I had as much time as I needed, a travel budget that was near limitless (within reason)? Had he call ed our office and inquired about my whereabou ts? This man was a total expert , at the very least. “Well, Roland, I—“
“I’m not comfortable with your business attire. This isn’t a job interview. You really should wear something more comfortable for tomorrow. Sexy, but too professional. ”
I felt the heat rushing into my cheeks again. Why was I lettin g him manipulate me like this ? “Uh, sure, but—“
“Marisa, I know what you’re here for. You want to expose something about me to the world, something hidden, secret. Dark, maybe. I like you, so I think I’d be willing to do that for you—if, and only if you’re willing to expose something about yourself to me. You know, open yourself up. I know what you’re like: cold and determined, a strong woman that won’t give up until she gets what she wants . But I know there’s more to you than that. I can just tell. ”
Already he knew more about me than my parents ever had—and he had only known me for about twenty minutes. Whoa, Marisa . This was a lot. He sat there
“Surely I do. Take a seat on the couch over here. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Whiskey? I have it all. ”
“Uh, coffee,” I said.
“Right, give me a moment then.”
I heard him rattling around in the kitchen, moving pots and pans. I sat there staring at the inside of the house, fascinated by the size. What could he possibly need all of this space for? I guess this might have been his parents’ home, so maybe he wasn’t even responsible for the excess. But—
“Alright, here you are.” He handed me a drink with beautiful latte art resting on the top, a leaf. “That’s the only object I can make. I do hope it’s acceptable.”
I laughed. “Yes, it’s beautiful.” I s ipped it— sweet, but not too sweet. The coffee was sensational. “Wow, this is great!” It warmed me as it went down my throat—just as his hand had earlier.
“ I'm better at the drinks than the art. I’ve become quite the e xpert in coffee-related things. I know you asked for just coffee, but for some reason I thought a latte would be more appropriate. ” He sat down in big leather chair across from where I was on the couch. “So let’s talk business. I’m sure you’ve got some questions for me.”
I finished my sip and tried to put myself back together. “Yes, yes, Mr. Starland. I’ve got many questions for you.”
“Please, call me Ro land . You’re in my home with me, a guest. We don’t need to adhere to silly social conventions here.”
That hit me a little off guard. Here I was in business attire, ready to professionally deal with one of the richest men in the world. “ Uh, okay. Roland .”
“You probably want to know about StarChem. Shame what happened with that illegal dumping in India.”
“Yes, Mr. Star—Roland. Are you accepting responsibility for that disaster? What are you doing about it?” I suddenly felt empowered, like I could dig into his mind. I felt like regular old determine d Marisa again.
“That’s a big question, Marisa. I don’t think we can talk about that right now.”
Shit. He was already closing up. Time to try a gain . “What about the unlawful evictions that Starland Realty has been associated with? The banking fraud? The forged books?”
Roland sat there, staring at the bea utiful, high walls of his house, totally unfazed by my questioning. Certainly a man this rich had dealt with things much more intense than my humble questioning. “Marisa, I know what you’re doing here. I think you’re moving a bit too fast. If we were romantically—well, never mind that.” A wicked smile formed across his face, one that held me captive, wondering what it meant. “I know that you’ve got all the time you need with me. Why should we spoil such fun on the first day?”
I didn’t even know what to say. How could he know that I had as much time as I needed, a travel budget that was near limitless (within reason)? Had he call ed our office and inquired about my whereabou ts? This man was a total expert , at the very least. “Well, Roland, I—“
“I’m not comfortable with your business attire. This isn’t a job interview. You really should wear something more comfortable for tomorrow. Sexy, but too professional. ”
I felt the heat rushing into my cheeks again. Why was I lettin g him manipulate me like this ? “Uh, sure, but—“
“Marisa, I know what you’re here for. You want to expose something about me to the world, something hidden, secret. Dark, maybe. I like you, so I think I’d be willing to do that for you—if, and only if you’re willing to expose something about yourself to me. You know, open yourself up. I know what you’re like: cold and determined, a strong woman that won’t give up until she gets what she wants . But I know there’s more to you than that. I can just tell. ”
Already he knew more about me than my parents ever had—and he had only known me for about twenty minutes. Whoa, Marisa . This was a lot. He sat there
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