Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 1)

“I like Merlot.” A measured look. “I just want to be clear on what goes with it.”

“Ah.” Blake didn’t avert his gaze. “I’m not staging a seduction scene. Luring women into bed isn’t my style. And I’m smart enough to know that being lured isn’t yours. That having been said, I do want to be alone with you. To talk, and get to know you better. That’s why I didn’t suggest your place. You’ve got a full house.”

“True.” Devon weighed her options and decided to take the risk. “Okay, then, your place it is.”

CHAPTER 14

A half hour later, seated on the taupe leather sofa in Blake’s oak-paneled living room, Devon wondered what she’d let herself in for. There was something warm and cozy about the three-story brownstone, despite the daunting fact that Blake owned the whole damned building. Everything was done in earth tones with rustic accents, incl

uding a wall-to-wall brick fireplace. It was very male, and very Blake.

Also very quiet and very private.

“Where’s Chomper?” Devon asked, half hoping the pup would come bounding into the room and lighten the atmosphere of intensity hovering around them.

“He’s staying overnight at your clinic,” Blake replied. He was standing at the sideboard, opening the bottle of Merlot. “He hates being alone. And I knew I’d be out late, so I arranged to pick him up tomorrow. Which works out fine, since he and I have an obedience class at eleven. I’ve got an eight thirty meeting at the office. Then I’ll shoot up to White Plains.”

An eight thirty meeting. That would be with Monty.

Devon kept her expression nondescript. “I’m sure Chomper’s being spoiled rotten. Our boarding staff prides themselves on that.”

“I got that impression.” Blake poured two glasses of wine and carried them over to the sofa. “Did you always want to be a vet?”

“Since I was a kid. I loved animals. I was fascinated by medicine. So I found a way to do both.” With a nod of thanks, Devon took the glass of wine, waiting until Blake had settled himself on the other side of the sofa. “What about you?” she asked. “Have you always wanted to be a bigwig in a family-owned, multimillion-dollar company?”

A chuckle. “Maybe not always, but close to it. I’ve always been fascinated by the restaurant industry. And I’ve always had a flair for business management, along with a thousand creative ideas. Combining all that into one career was too good to pass up. So I went for it.”

“Straight to Pierson & Company?”

“Nope. Not before paying my dues. My grandfather believes in family, but he also believes that busting your ass builds character and leads to success. He made it clear I needed the education and the experience before I’d be considered for a high-level position. So, off I went to Providence, Rhode Island.”

“Johnson and Wales?” Devon guessed.

“Uh-huh. Their food-service management program’s top-notch. I got my bachelor’s degree and went to work for the food-services division of Marriott for two years. After that, I went to NYU business school and got my MBA. Then I joined Pierson & Company. That was nine years ago. I’ve worked in every division.”

“Sounds like a great way to find your niche. Where’d you end up?”

“In none of them,” Blake returned drily. “No surprise. I’ve never been content with what is. I’m always envisioning what could be.”

“So you started something new?”

“Yup. Food services addresses the en masse crowds that go to sporting arenas. Fine dining addresses the limited, elite crowd who have sophisticated palates and deep pockets. That leaves a huge chunk of the population unaddressed—namely, families.”

“I see your point.”

Blake rolled his goblet between his palms. “I’m starting up a whole new division. Family dining.” He proceeded to explain Chomping at the Bit and where things stood on the project.

Even though Devon had read the basics in Monty’s notes, it was far more interesting hearing it from Blake’s perspective. “It sounds like a surefire winner,” she said sincerely. “The kids will be thrilled. The parents will be thrilled. Soon you’ll have restaurants all over the country. And the coffers at Pierson & Company will be even fuller.”

“That’s the plan.” A shadow flickered across his face. “At least it was. Right now, expansions are on hold. Other priorities trump them.”

“You’re talking about Frederick’s death.”

“Yes. His death leaves a gaping hole at Pierson & Company.”

That opened the door. Devon stepped through it carefully.

“I can’t imagine how debilitating this tragedy must be for you. Your personal and professional worlds, both thrown into chaos.”