At No Time || Bruno Mars

55

As he dined inside the men's club on a single pancake, Peter thought that the establishment had nothing on Trystan's cooking. What she had managed to make saccharine and filling was what the club lacked, their food dry and lifeless in comparison. Or maybe that was what he concluded simply because the food was not hers, that maybe if it had been, he would have liked it more.

He blinked, snapping himself out of it as he had not come to the men's club to woolgather over a woman's cooking, but to speak to the individual who would hopefully quench the curiosity he had since the rooftop banquet.

He finished his food and waited, rehearsing what he wanted to say and surmising what he planned could only work out in his favor.

The especially extravagant grandfather clock on the wall indicated seven minutes had passed by the time Matthew Bennett-Price arrived at Peter's small table by the window. With the same charisma as his father but not as boisterous, he greeted him, "Good morning, Peter. I have to say, I was a bit surprised at receiving your call."

Peter gestured for him to sit down as he replied, "Thank you for coming on such short notice, however I think it'd be wise of me to fraternize with some of the people I may be working with in the future."

Matthew nodded. "That's fair. What is it that I can help you with?"

Peter had to be precautious—the man sitting before him was not the individual he had met as his birthday party, loud and drunken, but professional and reserved. He could probably have him coughing up something if he were inebriated, but it was ten o'clock in the morning and Matthew had not even requested a drink of water.

"Kimioko Phan," Peter said her name with as much nonchalance as he could offer.

Matthew's brow rose. "Your ex-fiancée?"

Not matter how long ago they had called off their engagement, people still managed to connect the two by that aspect. It was not unfair, but annoying nonetheless.

"Yes."

"What about her?"

"Does she have any stakes in the Bennett-Price company?"

It was a long-shot to assume she had any personal dealings with Robert, but when he saw her conversing with him that night, and the way they were talking, so comfortably as if they had done so a million times, had him wanting to venture further into it.

However, Matthew appeared befuddled, if not disheveled a bit as he answered, "Not that I know of, but then again, my father has partnerships with a lot of people I'm not aware of."

That's no help, Peter thought and tried changing his approach, "Well, have you all worked with fashion designers before? I'd personally find it strange for any to actually invest in a company that has nothing to do with clothing."

Matthew made a face of either uncertainty or concealment. "I'm really not sure, Peter, and I'm under obligation to keep company affairs between those actually within the company. Considering you're not, at least not yet, I shouldn't be speaking to you about this."

Peter leaned forward, unfazed. "But you're second-in-command to your father. As I've considered the position of head chair, I've reviewed the powers you have, and there are many. Revealing who and who doesn't have stakes in the Bennett-Price company isn't outside of your residency."

Matthew scrutinized Peter as he himself remained stoic, unsure of what was going on inside the other man's head, but maintaining his professionalism as he was not the one with something to possibly hide.

After a moment, Matthew sat back in his chair and let out a short chuckle. "I can see why my father decided to choose you."

Peter's brow quirked. "And why's that?"