I got to the restaurant where we were meeting—some fancy steak place in Tribeca—and checked my phone.
When I woke up, I’d had one message from Andrew. It read, You know what to do. It was all I needed to hear.
Maybe some employees would have been pissed at a boss that dropped a message like that before the most important meeting they’d ever been to, but not me. I knew Andrew didn’t waste words. He meant what he said.
He believed in me.
I pulled open the door and took in the moss green walls, patterned mosaics on the floor, and the deco light fixtures. It was like a fancy Upper East Side townhouse. When I lived in New York, I could never have afforded to come to a place like this, and now, here I was, armed with a Blake Enterprises company credit card, ready to order the best wine on the menu.
The hostess showed me to my table and I took a seat facing the door. I knew what Bob looked like and I wanted a few seconds of advantage, knowing he was approaching.
I scanned the menu and made my choice. When I confessed to Andrew that I hadn’t got a clue about what wine to order, we brought up the wine list on the website and he made a couple of choices. I nearly died at how expensive they were, but he assured me getting this deal done was ninety-five percent confidence—and I needed to reflect that in my wine selection.
I saw Bob enter and faked a relaxed perusal of the menu as he approached. I was certain the entire restaurant must be able to hear my heart beating in my chest.
I stayed seated as Andrew had suggested and set down my menu as my guest arrived at the table. “Ms. Rossi. I’m delighted to meet you.” His eyes sparkled as he grinned at me and then took a seat. “Have you been here before?”
“I haven’t. I’m a native New Yorker but there are always more restaurants than time to visit them.”
“Well said. It’s the same in London. And you’re based there, despite hailing from this fine city. Is that correct?”
“New York is home. But I have family in London, so it’s my adopted city. Don’t ask me to choose.” Bob didn’t need to know that I’d barely seen London beyond the stretch of city between my apartment and Blake Enterprises.
The waitress came and took our orders. As Andrew predicted, we both ordered steak.
“Shall we have some wine?” I suggested. “The 2001 Redigaff merlot caught my eye.”
Bob’s gaze slid to mine and the corners of his mouth turned up just a fraction. “Excellent choice, Ms. Rossi. Why not?”
I ordered the wine and we handed the menus back to the waitress.
“Please, call me Sofia. If we’re going to do business together, I have to feel we have a connection, you know?”
Goode nodded. “I do, Sofia. I do. Business is a people sport, as they say. But you look far too young to be out trying to buy companies. Tell me your story.”
I shrugged. “Not too much to tell. I’m a Columbia grad. I’m ambitious and driven, and I’m lucky to have some very rich people’s money to play with. My investors believe in me and I believe in Verity.” I paused, giving Bob time to respond. It would be easier if he was doing the talking, but he passed on the opportunity so I continued. “Truth is, I’ve always loved celebrity gossip. Grew up on Perez. Still buy all the tabloids, even though most places in the UK don’t even carry People.” I tapped my nose. “I have my secret list of sellers. And now I’m in the UK, I can get Hello and of course, Verity, Inc.”
“So your plan is to buy it from me and run it yourself.”
It was a good question and honestly, one of the few I hadn’t rehearsed. “I want to start that way. Ultimately, I want to put a great manager in charge who shares my vision for the business, so I can go out and expand.”
“Your vision?” Bob asked.
“Tell me yours. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for so long and now I’m here, I’m doing all the talking. I’d love to know if we see Verity, Inc. going in the same direction.”
It was as if Bob had been waiting for his cue. He regaled me with stories of how successful the magazine was, despite the slowest circulation of the magazines in the space. He explained how he wanted to keep the paper presence but really focus on the online platform as the medium to break stories. Nothing he was saying was groundbreaking, nor would his strategies pull the magazine out of the massive hole it was in. The market was dominated by online versions of Page Six and Daily Mail. Pushing a paper version of Verity, Inc. was a vanity exercise. Andrew might not like Bob, but Bob wasn’t a fool. He was holding back. He wasn’t telling me everything.
“Have you ever thought about a subscription model?” I asked.
He lifted his chin slightly, as if I was challenging him.
“What am I saying—of course you’ve thought about it. You’re one of the most successful men in magazines. Well, you asked me about my vision for Verity, and that’s where it starts. I want to see subscribers sign up for breaking news and blind items. We make the product more exclusive, differentiate ourselves from our competitors, and at the same time, smooth out cashflow.”
Bob nodded, looking me straight in the eye as if it were crunch time and he had to make a decision about whether or not he could trust me.
“I wonder if we should swap the merlot to champagne,” he said finally. “I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be doing business with each other.”
My stomach rose like a wave and then tumbled into a crash.
The rest of the lunch was spent with Bob regaling me with tales of celebrity encounters. At one point, he asked me about my financial backers and as quickly as possible, I told him I had family money. The fact that he didn’t dig any deeper told me that he knew exactly who my father was. It was a relief. Andrew and I had a more in-depth cover story, but I was serious when I’d said to Andrew that the fewer lies I told, the better. The fact was, my father was rich. He just wasn’t my investor. Bob had put two and two together and come up with seven. Worked for me.
“Sofia, it’s been a pleasure, but I really must head out to another meeting. Shall we catch up for breakfast on Monday?”
It was Friday. Monday was three days away.
“You’re in town for a couple of weeks, from what my assistant told me.”
“Absolutely,” I said, setting my napkin on the table and standing to say goodbye. “On one condition. You tell me whether that recent wedding at the Four Seasons between my favorite Mexican actress and the Avengers star was a love match or an Oscar grab.”
Bob chortled. “It’s a deal.” He took my hand in both of his and gave it a hearty shake. “It’s been a pleasure. You’re a spitfire. I like your offer, Sofia. I have some thinking to do, but I liked your offer indeed.”
And with that lack of commitment, he was gone.
I slumped back in my chair and took another swig of the vintage champagne I’d ordered.
What would Andrew say about extending our stay? Did that mean I had a weekend in New York? With Andrew?
Last night when I’d pushed his boundaries, I thought I’d ruined whatever it was we’ve been doing. But instead, it seemed to have made it better. I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it but Andrew was more . . . relaxed. He’d even said that if it wasn’t for the meeting, he’d make me stay the night in his bed like he knew there was something between us that wasn’t just great sex just the same way I did.