business,” his father had said. Not “our business.”
Dom leaned against the kitchen counter. He had some decisions to make. If his father wasn’t going to allow him to grow, to have a say. Well, maybe Dom needed to forge his own way.
LUCY FELT RIDICULOUSLY shy as she arrived at the market the following morning. Last night she’d pressed Dom’s hand against her belly, practically strong-arming him into sharing her baby’s first movements.
What had she been thinking? As if he cared what was going on in her belly. He was her wholesale supplier, for Pete’s sake. The guy who used to sit two pews forward of her own family in church when they were kids. He didn’t want to know what her baby felt like when it kicked. Every time she remembered how she’d pressed his hand against herself her toes curled in her shoes.
It wasn’t until after he’d gone that she’d looked in the mirror and seen how puffy and red her eyes were. There was no way he wouldn’t have guessed she’d been crying. She could only imagine what he thought of her: poor, lonely Lucy, desperate for company.
She was relieved when she approached the stall and saw Dom was busy with another customer and his father was free. Mr. Bianco could help her with her order, and she wouldn’t have to talk to Dom today. One small thing going her way for a change.
“Lucy. You look beautiful,” Mr. Bianco greeted her, his chubby arms spread wide.
Dom glanced up from where he was standing nearby. His dark gaze was unreadable as he noted her.
“I’ll look after Lucy, Pa,” he said.
“You are busy,” Mr. Bianco said dismissively.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Dom said, addressing Lucy and not his father.
There was a definite tension between the two men, and Lucy shrugged uncomfortably.
“Sure. Whatever suits you guys,” she said.
Mr. Bianco opened his mouth to protest, but Dom nailed him with a look that had Mr. Bianco muttering under his breath as he moved off to serve someone else.
Lucy fiddled with the strap on her bag, nervous all over again now that she was going to have to face Dom after all. Maybe she should apologize for last night, for thrusting her baby bump at him. Just get the awkwardness out of the way and move on.
“Okay. Sorry about that,” Dom said.
She looked up, words of apology on the tip of her tongue.
“Listen, have you got time for a coffee? Sorry, a hot chocolate? Twenty minutes?” Dom asked.
She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Why did this man keep taking her by surprise?
“Sure,” she finally managed to croak.
Dom called out to his father that he was taking a break. Lucy left her trolley next to the stall and followed him to a café in the group of permanent shops that ran along Victoria Street beside the market. The woman behind the counter greeted him with a smile.
“We’ll have two hot chocolates, Polly,” he called as they sat.
Lucy clasped her hands nervously in front of her as Dom gave her his full attention. She had no idea what he was going to say to her, and she found his intense gaze unnerving. Suddenly all she could think about was how hot and heavy his hand had felt against her body last night.
Talk about inappropriate.
“I’ve been giving some thought to what we talked about last night,” he said. “About your business and your plans for the future.”
Lucy nodded. Right. He was going to offer her some advice, probably suggest she talk to one of the second-tier banks like everyone else had. She schooled herself to be patient. He was being kind, after all. And she’d shown herself to be in need of kindness last night.
“How would you feel about taking on a business partner?” Dom asked.
She blinked. “Excuse me?” she asked stupidly.
He smiled. “Bit out of the blue, huh? I think you’ve got some great ideas for your business, and I think you’ve tapped into a strong niche market. Market Fresh has a lot of potential. There’s no reason why you couldn’t be operating across the city, even expanding into other states.”
He smoothed some papers out on the table between them.
“What I’m proposing is a fifty-fifty business partnership. I’ll put up the capital to expand the business and build the Web site. You’ll bring the existing business and your expertise to the table.” He paused to look at her, his eyebrows raised in question.
She was too busy grappling for a mental foothold to say anything. Dom wanted to buy into her business? Become her partner? Give her the money she needed to make her business a success?
“But you already have a business,” she said, blurting out the first thought that popped into her mind.
“No. My father has a business. I just work for him,” he said. There was a tightness around his mouth that hadn’t been there yesterday. A determination.
“You don’t know anything about my business. You haven’t seen the books. You have no idea what my turnover is,” she said, frowning.
“Of course I’d want my accountant to take a look at things before we signed anything. I guess what I’m asking at this stage is if this sounds like something you might consider?” Dom asked.
Their hot chocolates arrived, and Lucy bought some time by fiddling with her cup and saucer.
Did she want a business partner? Being her own boss had been part of the appeal of starting Market Fresh, but taking on a partner wouldn’t necessarily mean she wouldn’t still have her independence. It would mean compromises though, having to listen to other ideas and incorporate them into her plans.
She eyed Dom assessingly. She hardly knew him really. Didn’t know if he was hot tempered or easygoing, impulsive or rational. All she knew was what she’d observed of him over the year she’d been a customer at Bianco Brothers. He was good with customers. He was smart. He knew his product. He knew the industry.
“I’ve never thought about taking on a partner. Mostly because it’s never come up before.” She studied his face. She didn’t quite know how to ask her next question, so she decided to just go for it.
“Why me? Why Market Fresh?”
He took a sip of his hot chocolate before answering.
“I’m thirty-one and I’ve been working for my father all my adult life. I’ve always thought I’d take over when he retired. But I’m beginning to realize that that might be a long way off. And that maybe I don’t want to be Tony Bianco’s boy anymore. I have ideas, things I want to try, and he’s not open to them.”
“Okay. I get that part. But you could do anything.”
“Sure. I could start my own business. Go through all the pain of establishing myself, learn a new industry. Or I could find someone like you who
