“The club is doing well, I hear,” she said, damn curious if the missing money had funded his passion.
“It is. You should come by and see it. Dance a little, feel the Sapphire energy. It’s wonderful. Come by tonight. Jane Black is in town, and she’ll be singing a few of her hit songs. I know you love her music.”
A ping of excitement zipped through her. “I do love Jane Black,” Steph admitted begrudgingly, because these moments made her mission tougher. He knew her likes, he knew her dislikes, he knew her.
“I know you do,” he said with a smile. “So stop by. I’ll make sure you’re on the VIP list. I have to head over to Little Cayman tonight, so I won’t be there, but my manager, Ferdinand, is. If you need anything, he’s the man with the snake tattoo on his left arm.”
“Duly noted. Sounds like he’d be hard to miss, then. And I’m glad the club is doing well,” she said, though that wasn’t entirely true. If it were doing well at her mom’s expense, glad wasn’t the right word. The word rhymed with glad, though, and had an as hell following it.
“It’s a dream nightclub,” Eli said. “Plus, it feeds my charity work. I donate all my profits.”
“You do? That’s really great,” she said with a brief smile. She’d never known this side of him, the charitable one.
“Indeed. I have many causes I support, but for now, look at the menu. Everything is amazing, as you know.”
A few minutes later, a waiter arrived with glasses of water and to take their orders. Eli chose a mimosa and eggs benedict, while Steph opted for eggs and toast.
“You should get a quiche. Or a salmon omelet. Don’t get something you can eat at a diner,” he said.
“I wasn’t aware that eggs and toast were gauche diner food. But I’ve filed that away now,” she said, tapping her temple as the waiter left.
“That’s not it. I just want you to enjoy yourself. You should always enjoy yourself when you’re with me,” he said, tucking his hands under his chin and shaking his head in admiration. “I can’t believe you’re really here. You’re sure you’re not just an apparition? A figment of my happy imagination?” he said, waving a hand like a magician with a scarf.
My God, that’s what the man was—a damn wizard. So charming. So ebullient. Pretty much the happiest person you’d ever meet in your life.
“It’s really me. In the flesh,” she said, gesturing to herself like she was posing for a selfie.
“I’m simply delighted. Do you have any idea how happy it makes me to hear from you?”
“A lot?” she asked playfully, letting herself enjoy this moment.
“More than I can even measure,” he said, reaching for his glass. “Tell me everything. How is your company? Is that jerk who tried to hurt your tour business suffering?”
“I don’t know. I don’t talk to Duke, so I don’t have a good sense on a scale of one to ten of his daily suffering.”
“Let’s hope it’s a ten,” he said, narrowing his eyes and brandishing his teeth, as if he were ready to gnash Duke to a bloody pulp. “I wish you’d have let me help you with that fiasco.”
Steph gaped at him, staring at him like an oddity. “You didn’t offer,” she pointed out incredulously, because she wasn’t going to let him play revisionist historian.
“You didn’t ask,” he said.
Touché.
“Fair enough,” she said. “Besides, my mother helped me out, and I’ve been rebuilding.”
“Good. I’m thrilled.” He leaned back in his chair and glanced briefly at the crowds click-clacking by—businessmen and -women streaming in and out of banks. “But do you need anything now?” He waved broadly behind him. “My bank is right over there.”
She shook her head. “Thank you, I’m good. And speaking of my mom, there’s something I wanted to bring up,” she said, straightening her spine, readying for her mission. This was why she came to the Caymans early. To right a wrong, and the simplest way to do that was to ask.
After all, he’d given her the permission seconds ago.
He raised his eyebrows, waiting.
She drew a quiet breath, letting it fill her lungs, with strength, she imagined. Then, calmly, she asked, “I have a request. There’s something I’d like you to do.”
He cocked his head. “Of course. What is it?”
He sounded so damn genuine. Like he really would do anything she asked.
His eager reply further emboldened her.
“It’s about the money Mom invested in your fund when you started it. I think you should pay her back. You would never have had the hedge fund without her. She made it possible for you to start a business that made you rich. It’s only fair to return the seed money, especially now that you’ve retired,” she said, making her argument crisp and clear, laying out the facts.
But his response was a dismissive laugh. “That’s silly, dear. She has her jewelry sales.”
Her brow knit together. Seriously? That was his answer? She shoved aside the curl of annoyance in her gut, keeping her voice even as she tried again. “Eli, she helped you in a big way when you needed her, and she’s trying to rebuild her business now after the divorce. Don’t you think it would be the right thing to do with the money?”
“She doesn’t need my money if she’s busy selling jewelry again. She’s always been so talented with her little artsy tinkering.”