CHAPTER FIVE
Sasha was too embarrassed for words. Although three days had passed since the incident she still could not believe she’d broken down and cried in front of Dante, in front of someone who was in her employ. What must he think of her?
It was the embarrassment that made her escape into the house before he could get another look at her tear-streaked face. She hadn’t even come back out to thank him for taking her home. When she saw the limousine pull away from the house all she could feel was relief.
Even now, after so many days, she cringed at the thought of seeing him again. If he said anything about what had happened, if he made reference to it in any way, she would just die.
But today, the last day of the business week, she had a meeting downtown and there was no way she would be driving in that crazy confusion. She would be using the limo. She would be seeing Dante again.
It was a different Dante Perakis that Sasha saw that afternoon. In the past, each time he took her bags and helped her into the car he would do so with a polite smile. Today there was no such thing. Dante’s face was as stony as the Great Wall of China. After a curt ‘good afternoon’ he’d put her bags in the car, helped her in then set off, not even throwing a glance her way. What in the world was going on?
Dante’s silence was so disconcerting that after ten minutes of it she couldn’t stand it any longer. It was normally he who was the one trying to make conversation. Today it would be her.
She cleared her throat. “So how was your week?” she asked. She felt stupid, making idle conversation, but it was better than sitting through Dante’s stony silence.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he remained silent, not acknowledging her in any way, making her wait.
Sasha frowned. Who the hell did he think he was?
She was just beginning to bristle when he spoke. “It’s been a good week,” he said. “Productive. And you?”
Her week had been challenging but was she going to say that? Not on her life. “Good,” she said casually. “The usual.”
There was a pause, a silence that stretched on so long that she raised her eyebrows. She saw when he glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
Then he spoke. “I take it you’ve resolved whatever problem you might have been having last time? My guess is, it was something to do with production costs?”
She grimaced. “Your first guess is wrong. You’re on the mark with the second one.”
When she looked in the mirror he was frowning. “So you’re having problems keeping production costs down?”
“Yes. Any suggestions?” She was chuckling as she threw out the question. She already knew that Dante would have no answer to that one. What would a limo driver know about production costs? She’d thrown the question his way just to lighten the mood.
She was more than a little surprised at his answer. “I have a few,” he said. “Ready to hear them?”
She sat forward on her seat. “Of course. I’ve been battling this problem all year. If you can solve it I’ll forever be in your debt.” Then she laughed. “I’ll kiss you for it.” She didn’t know why she threw that in but there it was. The promise of a kiss. After what she’d already experienced in his arms, it was a promise she would gladly fulfill.
She wasn’t surprised when Dante looked at her askance like he didn’t believe a word of what she was saying. But then his gaze turned into a sly look. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said with a quick glance her way then his gaze went back to the road. “Listen carefully,” he said. “If you follow these recommendations you’re sure to stem the rising costs. You might even see an increase in profits.”
Sasha almost laughed out loud. Now she was taking business advice from a chauffeur. If her father ever heard of this he would have her committed. Her lips were curling in amusement when she glanced at Dante’s face in the mirror. He was serious. She swallowed her laughter real fast.
“The first thing you need to do is start negotiating with your suppliers,” he said, his voice clipped and businesslike. “Let them know you’re going to need the best price possible for your raw materials.”
Sasha’s eyes widened. That what was the last thing she was expecting, a sensible suggestion from a blue-collar worker. Slowly, she nodded. “That makes a lot of sense,” she said, her voice serious as she began to realize that the discussion was no joke. “It’s a good idea but there’s only one problem.”
Dante glanced in the mirror. “What’s that?”
“We already tried that. They’re all resisting that idea. No-one wants to drop prices.”
He looked thoughtful, his mouth pursed as he pondered what she’d just said. Finally, he spoke. “I’m not surprised they had objections. Nobody’s going to be happy when you ask them to cut prices but there are ways.”
“Like threatening to move our business to other suppliers? We’ve already tried that. They know that’s just an empty threat. Their competitors charge pretty much the same as they do.”
He nodded. “Probably so, but what I’m thinking of is a win-win situation. Consider this: if you tell them you’ll double your order quantity so they ship bulk orders rather than sending you supplies in smaller quantities what do you think they would say?”
“They’d jump at it. No question about that. They’ve been asking us about that for ages but we’re the ones resisting. We don’t want to stock up. Right now it’s all about just-in-time ordering.”
“To save money,” he said.
“Of course, to save money,” she repeated, wondering why he was stating the obvious. “Who wants to tie up money in inventory?”
“Do you have warehouse space?” he asked.
“Yes, we have some excess. Why?”
“What if I told you that, in this economic climate with oil prices climbing, you’ll save more money purchasing raw materials in bulk than under the just-in-time model?”
Sasha sat back in her seat, a frown on her face. What did a man like Dante know about the just-in-time model? What kind of limo driver was he, anyway? This man was not for real. She wanted to stop him. She wanted to question him about how he knew all of this but she didn’t. She had the feeling he wasn’t quite who he was making himself out to be but she wouldn’t tip him off just yet, not until she got to the bottom of things. The only thing saving him from a full-scale interrogation was the fact that he’d been recommended by Rafe. But she would soon solve the mystery that was Dante Perakis. She wouldn’t stop until she did.
She inclined her head as she gazed at the back of him. “How could you know that?” she asked, genuinely interested in a working class man’s take on the just-in-time model.
“I did an analysis and determined that in an ideal world the just-in-time model works very well. However, that’s not the case in a volatile business environment like the one we’re currently in. Right now if you can negotiate for discounts based on bulk purchasing you’re more likely to see it make a positive impact on the bottom line.”
Sasha was shaking her head, not believing what she was hearing. “You did an analysis? You?”
As she watched his face in the rearview mirror she saw his eyebrows lift then he bit down on his bottom lip, looking almost guilty. It was like he’d dipped his hand in the cookie jar and she’d caught him red-handed.
Sasha never took her eyes off his face. She’d touched a nerve, questioning his knowledge. Now he would have to reveal himself. He had no choice.
As she gazed at him in the mirror his face relaxed into a wry smile. “You got me,” he said with a chuckle. “In my past life, before I fell on rough times, I used to own a small business. Insignificant compared to the kind of operation you have but that’s where I gained my business knowledge.”
“Oh, I see.” Sasha felt like patting herself on the back. She’d sensed it all along. Dante was no ordinary limo driver, not by a long shot. He had business smarts that many of her corporate officers did not possess.
A thought crossed her mind but she was tactful enough not to bring it up. With all his business smarts what was he doing, driving a limo for a living? His business acumen must not have done him much good.
When he began speaking again she abandoned the thought. “Another thing you can do,” he was saying, “is find raw material substitutes.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re in the cosmetics business. I know you use a lot of oils, mostly olive oil is my guess.”
“Yee…s, that’s right.” Dante had surprised her yet again. Most of her friends didn’t even know that.
“That’s an expensive oil,” he said. “Have you ever considered switching some of your products to a refined coconut oil base?”
“But we’ve…always used olive oil,” she said slowly as his words sank in. “The formula is over a century old.”
“I understand the product heritage,” he said. “I know it’s a family thing but this is the twenty-first century and you’ll have to make practical decisions based on today’s business environment. You could do the change gradually, introducing new lines that have a coconut oil base. If they’re well received you can step up production on those low-cost lines while you scale back on the lines with the high-priced ingredients. Alternatively, you can keep the olive oil line going but charge a premium price.”
Sasha was speechless. Everything Dante had said so far made so much sense. How did he know all this? He spoke like a man who had extensive business experience. “I…I don’t know what to say. I’ve had strategy meeting after strategy meeting and none of us, not me or my business managers, thought of that as an option. How…how did you-”
“It’s because I’m an outsider,” he said. “An objective outsider, not ruled by the emotion of a strong family heritage. You never thought of that option because you could not conceive of ever touching a tried and true, a well-loved family formula.” His lips twisted in a smile. “I don’t have such hang ups.”
She nodded, understanding exactly what he was saying. She would never have thought of touching the Force family formula. Now, though, she might do just that.
“One more thing.”
At his words, she glanced up. “Yes?”
He chuckled. “Actually, it’s more than one. First, in the same way that you’ll be purchasing in bulk, start producing larger batches. That way you will have longer, smoother production runs with fewer starts and stops. Do you know how much you could save by reducing the number of set-ups and shut-downs? And,” he paused as he maneuvered the car so he could park directly in front of the advertising agency’s corporate headquarters, “give your major retailers incentives to purchase in bulk. Let them help you get the stuff off your hands as quickly as possible.”
She sat back in her seat. “Wow. And I thought I knew business. When it comes to manufacturing you’re a whiz. I’m impressed.”
He only laughed. “One last thing.” He raised his eyebrows as he turned around to face her. “Reach out to your production staff for suggestions on cutting costs. You would be surprised what great ideas those guys have.”
She was nodding as she drew in her breath. “I most certainly will.” He got out of the car and came around to hold her door open. When she got out, on an impulse she turned to him. “What are you doing tonight around eight?”
He raised his eyebrows, his gaze curious. “On a Friday evening? I’ll probably be checking ESPN for a good basketball or baseball game.”
“How about skipping ESPN tonight and having dinner with me instead?”
He shrugged. “Sounds good.”
She tapped him on the chest. “You know where I live. Pick me up at eight.” And with that she turned and click-clicked in her high heels toward the entrance to the office building. He was still watching her when she turned. “You’re free for the rest of the afternoon. No need to wait for me. A friend of mine will be picking me up.” She gave him a little wave. “See you later.”
All Dante could do was stare. Was this the same Sasha Force he’d met only a week ago? She was like a totally different person. What had changed?
He was still standing there, staring after her, even after she entered the revolving doors. It was only when he spied a traffic cop on his way over that he made a move, jumping into the car and heading off into the city traffic.
As he drove out of the city he was smiling. He’d made a calculated guess that Sasha would be the kind of woman who would be impressed by knowledge and expertise. He’d almost overdone it but, by God, his spiel about dealing with production costs had paid off.
Without even being the one to ask for it, tonight he would be having a date with Miss Ice Queen. It would be the perfect opportunity to test his seduction skills.
He could see it already. Sasha was beginning to like the new Dante Perakis. If he played his cards right he would be winning the bet sooner rather than later. He was looking forward to laying claim to Rafe’s Ferrari.
When he arrived at Sasha’s house that night he was not wearing his chauffeur’s uniform. Neither was he driving the limousine. Dressed in sports jackets, shirt sleeves and jeans he was driving a Mercedes-Benz SL65, just classy enough to transport Miss Sasha Force.
When she opened the front door and stepped out she paused, eyes widening. “Yours?” she asked. She was probably wondering how a mere chauffeur could afford a car like that.
He shrugged. “A friend’s. He owed me one.”
The explanation seemed to satisfy her because she shrugged then descended the steps, all long lovely legs and creamy thighs. She was wearing a body-hugging white dress, an off-the-shoulder number with a skirt that was super short and sexy. One look at her and that most intimate part of his anatomy went hard as rock.
He had the urge to whistle but he held it in. Sasha was not the kind of lady who would take kindly to being whistled at. Instead, he inclined his head, giving her an appreciative gaze that had her coloring prettily.
She liked it that he was admiring her, though. She was smiling back at him, letting him know that his admiration was well received. As she came up to stand in front of him she dropped a hand on one hip and struck a saucy pose. “You like?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do,” he said, not hiding his appreciation for what he was seeing. “I most certainly do.”
This time when he opened the door for Sasha it was to help her into the seat next to his. Tonight he would not be peering at her in the rearview mirror. Tonight she would be his lady. Almost.
He knew he shouldn’t get ahead of himself. Just because she’d invited him to have dinner with her and just because she was looking sizzling hot, it didn’t mean this was going anywhere further than an evening meal. Still, he could hope. In fact, he could do more than that. He could turn on the good old Dante Perakis charm and get Sasha so hot under the collar that one night would not be enough. In a word, he could be a dog.
He had no problem with that. He was Dante Perakis, after all.
When they got to L’Olivier, he turned up the charm. After he’d helped Sasha into her seat he took the chair across from her and picked up the wine list. “May I recommend your drink for the evening?” he asked. “I guarantee it will be to your liking.”
She smiled. “Oh, so in addition to being a business aficionado you’re an oenophile, too?”
He grinned. “Grandma, what big words you have.”
Her smile widened. “All the better to describe you with, my dear.” They both laughed at that joking reference to the Red Riding Hood fairy tale then he turned his attention back to the wine list. “Pauillac Bordeaux 2000,” he read. “Good year. An excellent wine. I’ll order us a bottle.”
She raised her eyebrows. “How did you know I love Bordeaux?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Bordeaux. Opulent in its freshness and clarity. Charming vintage. As classy as the lady I’m looking at right now.”
The compliment was a deliberate swipe at her defenses. He was determined that by the end of the evening Sasha would see him in a whole new light. The flash of interest in her eyes told him it was working.
“Wow,” she whispered. “You do know your wine.”
He shrugged. “I try.” When the maître d’ approached their table Dante greeted him in his native language.
Sasha gasped. “You speak French?”
“Mais oui, mademoiselle. Je parle francais assez bien,” Dante said, amused that he’d amazed her yet again.
“Yes, you do,” she said with a nod. “You speak French quite well. Where did you learn the language?”
“After a few dozen visits to my Paris office I’d better know the language. I got some one-on-one tutoring before I made my first trip.” The words were hardly out of his mouth before he realized his blunder.
Sasha was frowning. Dante knew it had nothing to do with his mastery of the French language. “Your Paris office?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “You have an office in Paris?”
Dante had to think fast. He needed an answer that would throw her off track. He gave her a disarming smile. “That’s not exactly what I meant,” he said. “When I used to have my business, for a while I shared office space with another small-business operator who was trying to break into the European market. Working together we were able to capitalize on each other’s strengths. It also saved us a heck of a lot in rent and utilities. It helped that we could split the bills.”
It looked like his story worked because her face relaxed and she began to nod. “That makes sense. So tell me a little bit about your business.”
“There’s not much to tell,” he began, his tone hesitant as he tossed around in his mind for the safest answer. He’d already messed up when he let slip that he had a Paris office. He could not afford another such blunder. “I just buy and sell-”
“Excusez-moi monsieur, mademoiselle. Your wine.”
When Dante looked up to see the maître d’ standing there, the bottle of wine in hand, he almost sighed in relief. The man could not have turned up at a more opportune. “Merci beaucoup,” he said as he watched him carefully pour wine into Sasha’s glass and then into his. When he’d departed Dante immediately turned the conversation to a totally different topic.
“I hope you had a good meeting with the advertising agency.”
That promptly led to a discussion about the pros and cons of using traditional advertising media in an era where social media played such an important role. Soon it seemed that Sasha had forgotten her question about his business, much to his relief.
They ordered their meal and even after it arrived they remained locked in animated conversation about the challenges of doing business in the twenty-first century. When dessert was served - crème brûlée, crêpe Suzette and ice cream - they were still trading ideas.
When Sasha took a sip of her green tea she shook her head. “You are something else, Dante Perakis. You’re like no other chauffeur I’ve ever met. Are you sure you’re not pulling the wool over my eyes?”
He didn’t know how to answer that one. He was already knee-deep in a cesspool of deceit. Would there be any point in coming clean just when it looked like she was warming to him? He dropped his gaze and raised his teacup to his lips, buying time while he thought up a safe answer. “Why would I do that?” he asked. It was a cop-out, answering a question with a question of his own, but it was the best he could do.
And then he decided to distract her. Totally. He’d had enough of talking business. He was in the company of a beautiful woman and he was not going to let that go to waste.
He set his teacup back in the saucer. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” he said, as he reached inside his sports jacket. “The night is still young. I’d like to show my gratitude by helping you work off that lovely meal.”
“What do you mean?” Eyes narrowed, she threw a suspicious glance his way.
“Do you like to dance?” he asked as he pulled out his wallet. “I know the perfect place for a fun night on the town. It’s a lounge with a small dance area. Just right if you like a smaller, more intimate setting.”
She blinked. “Oh, that’s what you meant.”
“What did you think I meant?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s not important.”
The way she said the words, her tone defensive, made him realize she’d thought his comments had been sexual in nature. He’d meant nothing of the sort but he was only too happy to take note of where her mind was going. Good to know.
He waved the server over.
“What are you doing?” Sasha demanded. “I invited you to dinner, remember?”
“Ah, and the poor chauffeur would never be able to afford such an expensive meal, right?”
“I never said that,” she whispered as the server approached.
He laughed, tickled by how easily he could tease her. “I’m just joking. That was a very expensive wine I ordered so I’ll take care of it while you take care of the meal. Sounds good?”
She frowned. “I still don’t like it. Tonight is on me-”
He raised his palms in defeat. “Okay, okay, it’s on you.” Then he paused, giving her a sly look. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You go to Grand Lounge with me and I buy the drinks. Deal?”
By this time the server was standing by their table. Maybe that was why Sasha didn’t argue. “All right. Deal.” She reached over to slide her purse off the vacant chair then she turned her attention to the young man who stood by, waiting patiently.
As Sasha dealt with the bill Dante smiled to himself. The evening had gotten off to a pretty good start. If he played his cards right there was no telling how the night would end.