Goddess of the Sea (48 page)

He shrugged. “Whatever. All I'm saying is that it doesn't draw you a very big lunch crowd.”

“You mean like a fried chicken buffet would? Or maybe I could even crank up the grill and churn out some burgers and fries?”

“Now there's an idea,” he said, totally missing the sarcasm in her tone. “Suggestion number three would be to cut your staff.”

Lina drummed her fingers on the top of the conference table. “Go on,” she said, keeping her voice deceptively amiable.

“Number four would be to consider bankruptcy.” He held up a hand to stop her from speaking, even though she hadn't uttered a sound. “I know it sounds drastic, but after those expensive renovations you've just completed, you really don't have any reserves left to fall back on.”

“I only commissioned those expensive renovations because you assured me that Pani Del Goddess could afford them.” Lina's hands twitched with the desire to wrap themselves around his neck.

“Be that as it may, your reserves are gone,” he said condescendingly. “But bankruptcy is only one option, and not the one I would recommend. Actually, I would recommend option number five—sell to that big chain that offered to buy you out a couple of months ago. They just wanted your name and location. Give it to 'em. You'll have enough money to pay your debt and start over with a new name and place.”

“But I've spent twenty years building up the Pani Del Goddess name, and I have no desire to move.” If Frank Rayburn had been even the least bit intuitive, he would have recognized the storm that brewed in Lina's expressive eyes, even though it had not yet reached her mouth.

Frank Rayburn was not intuitive.

“Well, I just tell ya the options.” Frank leaned back in the plush chair and crossed his arms while he gave Lina what he liked to think of as his stern, fatherly look. “You're the boss; it's your job to decide from there.”

“No, you're wrong.” Lina's voice was still calm and soft, but it was edged in honed steel. “You see, I am not your boss anymore. You are fired. You have proven yourself to be as incompetent with my business as you are with your choice in attire. My lawyer will be in contact with you. I'll make sure that she has several
options
drawn up for you to consider. Maybe one of them will keep you out of court. Now, good day, Mr. Rayburn, and as my dear, sainted grandmother would say,
Io non mangio in questo merdai. Fongule e tuo capra!
Lina stood, smoothed her skirt and snapped shut her leather briefcase. “Oh, how rude of me. You don't speak Italian. Allow me to translate my grandmother's sage words. ‘You are a common turd. Fuck you and your goat!' Arrivederci.”

Lina turned and strode through the professionally decorated office grinning wickedly at the well-rouged receptionist.