He took the chair behind his desk, looking as arrogant as any fancy CEO she’d worked with over the years, even though his office space lacked the usual trappings of wealth. It was as if he was above worrying about appearances.
“So,” she plunged on, hoping to forestall any more talk about kinky things, “the plans that you gave me only include this floor. From the outside I would have guessed the building had two floors—maybe three. Are we leaving the upstairs alone or are there other tenants?”
He sat back and scratched at his stubble. The man grew good stubble, she could give him that much. He had a strong jaw, too, nice lips, intense green eyes. And the hand he was scratching that stubble with was . . . big. Wow.
Owning a place like this, though, whatever he was into, she definitely wasn’t interested in trying. And she definitely wasn’t into being a notch on this man’s bedpost.
“There are private rooms upstairs. I guess you could take a look and tell me what you think. Although the main floor has been mostly cleared out for this, and those rooms haven’t been. I don’t know how delicate your sensibilities are.” His gaze held a challenge that made her bristle.
Guys like this always thought she was so prim, just because she cared about having a tidy appearance. She was just as worldly as the next woman.
“I’m sure I can handle it, Mr. Ellis.”
“Please, call me Will. Calling people Mr. Ellis around here gets too confusing with my business partner being my brother.”
“Doesn’t he want to sit in on this?”
“Grant,” he called, the deep boom of his voice startling her. “Do you want to sit in on planning meetings?”
The only response was a bark of rude laughter from the next room.
“See? Grant’s kind of an asshole, by the way. He’ll bang you in the back room if you let him. And he won’t call.”
“Your brother’s virtue is entirely safe with me, I can assure you.”
He snorted. “I can assure you that my brother is completely without virtue,” he said, matching her tone. “Sorry, you’re stuck with just me.” He smiled a real, dazzling smile.
Juliet, stop checking him out! This man’s idea of foreplay probably includes jumper cables.
“I guess it would be a good idea to give you the full tour. Of course, we’ll finish clearing everything out before construction starts, but we’re not shutting down until then, so most of the equipment needs to be available for use up until that point.”
He stood and grabbed the keys off his desk then walked away as though he was used to everyone trailing him like obedient puppies.
From what she knew about BDSM, Will had to be one of those Dom guys. He had an arrogance she would have expected from one . . . but he didn’t dress in fancy suits and he wasn’t clean-shaven, so maybe she was wrong?
“So, have you owned Catacombs for a long time?” she asked, determined to focus on the job and not the man.
“We started it up about five years ago. We didn’t have much money to sink into it at the time, so we added things as we could. Now that we’re well into the black, we can afford better.”
Well into the black? That boded well for Stride. It was always nice to take jobs where money wasn’t impossibly tight.
“So, what kind of feel are you going for? Something more upscale?”
He grimaced. “I wouldn’t mind owning something upscale, but considering the building we’re working with, the location—and considering me—I don’t think that would be a good fit. I was thinking something more practical. Clean lines, concrete, and steel.”
“So, a more futuristic feel?”
“More like industrial and easy to clean.”
Charming.
He chuckled and for some reason
the sound made her think of what sorts of things he probably did to women in this place. Her cheeks heated yet again, which annoyed the hell out of her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who went around blushing, but something about this guy said that although he’d been mostly polite, he wasn’t generally so civilized.
She strode after him, her Louboutins click-clacking on the nondescript floor. Stride could do so much better than this. It was always fun to take on a reno where the space was so raw—almost like a blank slate. Even just tearing out the horrible bar would make a world of difference.
“The bar stays,” Will said as if on cue, barely glancing over his shoulder as he issued the order.