The Truth About De Campo. Дженнифер Хейворд
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company, eh?”
Matteo felt his insides combust. Six months? He’d been pursuing Quinn Davis’s contract for six months? What chance did De Campo have? Bloody chemistry test.
He kept his temper in check. Just. “Seems like you’re doing something right.”
Williams leaned in, his voice dropping. “I’ve got that filly tied up tighter than tight, De Campo. Hate to say it ’cause I like you guys and we wine folk have to stick together. But this is pretty much a lock for us. Hate to see you waste your time.”
He stiffened. “Wasting my time,” he said quietly, pinning his gaze on the Australian’s rough-hewn face, “would be competing in a game I can’t win, Williams. And I don’t see that happening.”
His competitor’s grin faded. “Best of luck, De Campo. I gotta tell you, you’re a long, long shot. Hope you know that.”
Matteo showed his teeth. “Just the way I like it.”
Quinn came out of the house. “Would you excuse me?” he murmured. “My number is up.”
Anger pressed ruthlessly down on him, burning brighter with every step he took toward the infuriating Quinn Davis. He could tolerate a lot of things, but people wasting his time was not one of them. Unfortunately this situation required him to be civil so he pasted a smile on his face and stopped in front of her. “Might I claim my time, do you think?”
Her long dark lashes came down to shield her expression. “Of course. I was just coming to find you. Warren said you wanted to see the koi pond.”
He wanted to dunk her in the koi pond. He nodded instead and spread his hands out in front of him. “Please.”
Quinn pressed her lips together as if this was the last thing she felt like doing and led the way. Her politely worded, disinterested questions as they made their way down the path into the rear of the gardens sent his temper to a whole new level. He pushed out his practiced spiel about De Campo’s history, how the Tuscan and Napa vineyards were flourishing and why he thought their one-hundred-year-old company was the best choice for Luxe. It sounded flat even to his own ears because she so clearly didn’t care. By the time they got to the koi pond, a beautiful little oasis that seemed to appear out of nowhere, he had blown a fuse.
She needed to throw him a scrap.
Quinn started spouting interesting nuggets about the pond. By the time she started telling him how they removed the tropical fish in the summer and took them inside, he’d had enough.
“I get the feeling you don’t like me very much, Ms. Davis.”
She blinked, then fixed him with that cool stare of hers. “It’s not you I dislike, Mr. De Campo. It’s your type.”
The tabloid comment. Cristo, those stories. He shoved his hands in his pockets and narrowed his gaze on her lush, beautiful face. “Maybe you can elaborate on what my type is because I’m not sure I know.”
“The global playboy,” she supplied dryly. “The man who thinks he can manipulate everyone with his charm.”
His gaze clashed with hers. “Funny thing is, I don’t actually think that.”
“‘A stunning name for a stunning woman’? Come on, Mr. De Campo. Do you really talk like that?”
His lips stretched in a thin smile. “That wasn’t a line, Ms. Davis. That was the truth.”
Her small, even white teeth sank into a full bottom lip more suited to a woman who was actually a flesh-and-blood human being than an icicle. Too bad all of those just right, “take me to bed” curves were even more deadly in person. As in “take me to bed right now.” Because Quinn Davis was the epitome of a five-letter word he didn’t normally care to use.
The smile faded from his lips. “Just how much of an underdog is De Campo?”
“Who said you were an underdog?”
“My position on your priority list,” he said roughly. “If I were to rank it, I’d say Silver Kangaroo is your first choice, followed by H Brands and Michael Collins.”
The flush that darkened her cheeks told him he was dead-on. He sliced his hand upward to push his hair out of his face, remembered he’d had it all chopped off and dropped it to his side. “Why are we even here if you aren’t going to give us a chance?”
“You do have a chance.” Her eyes flashed a taunting emerald. “Tell me why I should choose you, Mr. De Campo. I’m all ears. Wow me.”
He could think of a multitude of ways to wow this one, most of which could never be done in a boardroom...starting with shutting up that smart mouth of hers.
He bit his tongue and used reason instead. “You’re big on Silver Kangaroo. I get that they’re a hot brand, winning awards, but so are we. In fact, De Campo is doing things no one else is, as you know, with the Malbecs and Syrahs in Napa. Warren is big on made in the U.S.A. There’s your angle.”
She lifted a delicate shoulder. “I’m more interested in choosing the right brand. Made in the U.S.A. is nice to have.”
“Good,” he agreed. “Then I’m sure you know you’ll get more personal attention from us than the big brands. How much love and devotion will Michael Collins or H Brands give you?”
“A lot, they’ve promised.”
He lifted a brow. “You can see through a lie, can’t you, Ms. Davis? Ultimately, the reason you should choose us comes down to a partnership. We’re in the restaurant business. Our restaurants are hugely profitable. We can help you. Guide you.”
Her gaze glittered. “I run a national chain of restaurants. I’m sure you couldn’t have missed that fact.”
“Fast-food restaurants,” he qualified. “It’s a very different industry.”
The warning in her eyes intensified. “Not so different, Mr. De Campo. But you make a good point. You’re a competitor. Why should we fatten your pocketbook, open sesame on our trade secrets so you can kill us later?”
He shook his head. “De Campo isn’t interested in luxury dining. Our restaurants service the trendy, hip crowd. It would be synergy, not competition.”
“What’s to say you won’t expand? You’ve opened five restaurants this year.”
“It’s not in our plans. We know where our niche is. Allow us to partner with you, share what we’ve learned.”
Her gaze hardened to a chilly, wintry green. “I don’t want your advice, Mr. De Campo. I want your wine.”
Damn, but she was a pain in the butt. “Riccardo and I had dinner in your Park Avenue restaurant this week. We wrote down a list of ten crucial mistakes you’re making that would put you back in the black. You may want to hear them given our restaurants have a profit margin unheard of in the industry.”
Her gaze flickered. Bingo. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Go on.”
“Put us through to the next round and I will.”
Her brows tilted. “What if you don’t make it? You have an opportunity now to make your case.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Ah. A gambler too.”
“Always. Tell me something, Quinn. You don’t like being underestimated, do you?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Thought so. Funny then that Daniel Williams thinks he has you tied up tighter than tight.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think his exact words were ‘I’ve got that filly tied up tighter than tight, De Campo.’”
“Filly?” The full force of that green gaze sank into him.