Dad coughed. “Now, Elle. You’re making it sound like I’m a slave driver.”

I laughed softly. “Not you, Dad. The company.”

His face fell, trying to read my reluctance. I wouldn’t tell him that most of the time, I used work as my alibi to avoid dates because the only man who asked me out was Greg, and that was only because he thought he knew me because our fathers were old friends.

Not to mention, if he married me, he would get the empire that he’d been raised with thanks to Steve’s involvement. I couldn’t begrudge his desire to control something that had been such a big part of his life.

But I could prevent it from happening.

Steve laughed, toasting me with his whiskey. “Here’s to a workaholic who happens to be so damn good at her job.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to toast to that, but I did, clinking my glass with his.

The waiter appeared to take our meal order as the menu changed weekly. Before I could glance at the new specials, my father slid from the booth and mumbled he’d be right back. An itch started right in my heart. I rubbed my chest as love for the gray-haired man in his immaculate three-piece suit washed over me.

Where is he going?

I knew I’d hurt him with refusing Greg’s advances, but I didn’t mean to rib him with how much I worked.

That wasn’t fair.

Greg interrupted my melancholy by ordering loudly. “I’ll have the venison. Rare.”

Steve pursed his lips before saying, “Make that two.” He placed the heavy flocked menu onto the table, eyeing me expectantly. “You, Elle? I know your father will have the chicken or fish—on account of his heart—but you?”

I quickly scanned the list. I had no appetite, and my thoughts were across the room in the private gin bar to the side where my father had vanished. “I’ll have...um, the salmon, please.”

“No problem.” The waiter took our order, tucked his electronic device that’d most likely already sent our order to the kitchen into his vest pocket, and collected our menus. The moment he left, awkwardness fell on the table.

Steve glanced at me then Greg. “So, you two, what’s new in the world of twenty something’s?”

I smiled for his sake, not Greg’s. “Well, you know my world. You see me every day at the office.”

“And you know mine because you see me every day at home.” Greg rolled his eyes.

He was twenty-five and still lived at home.

Here, I could be smug and look down my nose. A few months ago, I’d moved out of the brownstone and into my own top-floor apartment only two buildings away from Belle Elle headquarters.

I’d cheated and bought it fully furnished, so some of the furniture wasn’t to my taste, but I didn’t have time to interior design or visit the stores or even browse our own shop for decorations. It had taken all my courage to move out, especially after Dad’s heart attack, but I couldn’t be there anymore.

Dad had understood.

He’d supported me and helped me pack and move the meager possessions in my bedroom and a few knickknacks from the living room.

For the first week, Sage had caterwauled at the view, telling me off for removing her from the brownstone where she could sneak into the garden late at night and do whatever it was that cats do. In the new place, she was glass and concrete bound, looking at the clouds rather than rodents.

“How are you enjoying your own place, Elle?” Steve followed my train of thought, surprising me.

I shrugged, smoothing out my napkin over my lap. “It’s good. The building has great services with a gym and pool. It even has movie nights and neighbor parties once a month.”

Not that I’ve been to any of them.

“That’s fantastic.” Steve grinned. “Perhaps Greg could come over one day, and you can show him how easy it is to live on your own. Get him out from under my feet.”

“Yeah, good one, old man.” Greg snickered, sipping his gin and tonic.

I shuddered, doing my best to hide the horror at the thought of having Greg in my apartment. With me. Alone. Of kissing Greg. Of letting him remove my dress and touch me. Of letting him see me naked and sticking his—

All right, stop right there.

I no longer lived at home and was one of the few women on the Forbes’ richest list. I’d achieved so much, but in reality...in the three years since my first kiss, nothing had changed.

I hadn’t been kissed since—unless a friendly peck on the cheek from doting father figures counted. I hadn’t been naked around anyone, male or female. I still held the curse of not having enough time to lose my virginity.

Most days, I had no libido because I worked such long hours. But some nights, I remembered how it felt to be touched and have a man’s tongue in my mouth and how I physically ached for something I hadn’t understood that night on a baseball field.

And I delivered a release I’d become rather expert at.

“Yes, Elle. I could come over...say next week?” Greg rubbed his shoe against my leg, snagging my pantyhose and no doubt causing a ladder. “I could bring a bottle of wine. We could finally get to know each other.”

Steve scowled at the heavy reference to sex but didn’t interfere. After all, we weren’t children anymore. Yes, we had two meddling old men trying to influence our love lives, but I wouldn’t give in to this.

Not after everything else.

Talking of my meddling old man.

Where is he?

The waiter arrived with four plates of delicious smelling food, all artistically arranged on turquoise plates with silver piping.