When I'd been invited to the gathering, I'd imagined a room full of sharp suits, cold glasses, deals whispered over crystal, maybe even a performance of civility masking the usual threats and politics. I had expected enemies and allies alike, ready to measure me in that quiet way men always did when they doubted a woman's power.
Instead, I walked into a private dining room; one table, two chairs, a bottle of very fine and exquisite wine. And Rafael Costa standing there with that infuriating smile, the one that suggested he had already won before the game even began.
My steps faltered as I paused to let her gaze scan around one more, I needed to be sure that this wasn't what I thought it was.
"This isn't a gathering," I said flatly, stopping at the door.
"No," Rafael admitted easily, spreading his hands as if this were all harmless. "It's dinner. With me."
