At a little French café about 4 blocks from the office building, Maeve and Stedman conducted their meeting. Although, if someone passed by, they would hardly think they were doing anything more than enjoying each other's company, which they were… a little too much.

"So there I am, trying to convince this girl that I'm the captain, when suddenly the real captain of the ship shows up. She runs towards him and he starts speaking to her in Italian. Turned out, not only was the captain her uncle, she didn't even speak English," Stedman concluded, laughing at his former exploits. Maeve was in stitches with the second story of Stedman's formative years.

"I was pretty much talking to myself for the twenty minutes."

"I'm sorry," Maeve said between fits of laughter.

"About what?"

"That it didn't work out for you. If it's any consolation, that girl does not know what she missed."

Stedman lounged in his chair and smiled at Maeve, "What do you mean by that?"

Maeve playfully rolled her eyes, "You know exactly what I mean."

"No," Stedman shook his head, "You're going to have to elaborate."

"Then I guess I'm gonna leave you mystified."

"That happened the day the met you," he replied sincerely.

Maeve cocked her head to the side, "Now what do you mean by that?"

Stedman smiled in that sly way of his, "Wouldn't you like know."

Maeve smirked at him. They had been playing verbal volleyball ever since they had gotten there. If either one was asked, they wouldn't be able to tell you would was winning, they were having too much fun playing the game.

"Well, we are not here to talk about how I mystify you, are we?"

Stedman scooted closer to the table, "No, we're not. I wanted to talk to you about the imports you requested."

Maeve's eyebrows moved closer together.

"What about them?"

"The specific brands of beer are too expensive for the prices that you are selling for."

"If I buy them at the price that you offer, why is that a concern?"

Stedman took a breath, "Now that my company supports your business, your profit reflects on us. We don't want be known for supporting failing businesses."

"Failing businesses! McNeil's is doing everything, but failing!"

"Maeve, please calm down," Stedman requested.

Maeve looked at him dangerously, "I am calm. You just told me that I'm not managing my restaurant well. The restaurant that my father left to me. Trust me, I am calm."

"Well," Stedman started, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground, "You did come to us for help."

Maeve's hand clenched into a fist and she breathed. She forced a fake smile, "Are telling me that was a mistake?"

"No, Maeve, this is just something that we need to clear up."

"Clear up! What is there to clear up! If you don't want to support my business or the way I run it, you don't have to," she declared.

"You're right, I don't!" Stedman affirmed back at her. Maeve huffed out a short breath, certain that she blew whatever chances she had to continue this business relationship.

"But I want to," Stedman replied after a few short breaths, "This is a silly argument."

"No, it's not. McNeil's is a Brooklyn institution. I have customers who have been coming there for twenty years; people who've known me since I was an infant. To change things would not only be a slap in their face, but also in my father's," she explained.

"Maeve, you're making too much of this," he replied trying to calm her.

"You don't understand. First the prices, then the décor, my staff, these small changes as you see them add up. If we change too much, it won't be McNeil's anymore," she stated passionately.

"So what do you suggest because this is a problem."

Maeve thought for a moment.

"How about I lower the quantity? The demand for those brands aren't that high anyway. I buy less and keep my prices the same," she replied.

"That goes completely against…" Stedman started. Maeve put her hands over his.

"Let me do it my way, first, okay. If it doesn't work out, I'll change, but give me a chance," she said sweetly. Stedman was shocked by her quick change in demeanor. She was as fierce as a dragon one minute and sweet as a dove the next. Women, he thought. The more he looked at her, the more he knew that he was going to agree to her proposal. He couldn't help it.

"Okay," he conceded, "But only for a month. Then we'll see what the numbers are from there."

Maeve nodded, "Thank you."

"I'll have the refined contract made at my office. You can sign it there," he stated.

Maeve smiled, "Excellent."

Stedman smiled back at her, satisfied that this was going to be a good relationship… business relationship, he reminded himself. He took a longer look at the beauty before him. There was something about her that he liked. From the richest in her voice to the stride in her step, everything about her was just full of life and energy. The love that she had for her family was strong and touched him deeply. She was just…genuine, which was something he definitely didn't get with Rumina or any of the other women who were constantly around him. Watching her look at her menu again, an idea came to him.

"Maeve, why don't we celebrate?" he suggested.

"Excuse me?" she questioned

"With McNeil's joining the Stedman Enterprises family, I think we should celebrate this occasion."

Maeve smiled at him politely, with doubt in her eyes, "Sean, that's nice, but I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why?"

"Well, I assume by celebrate you mean an extremely formal dinner party of some sort and I… well, I just don't feel comfortable in those settings. They make me feel like the prize pig at a county fair."

"You're from Brooklyn, what do you know about county fairs?" he joked.

Maeve rolled her eyes, "I read in Charlotte's Web. Anyway, it's just not my kind of place. I don't think me and my associates would fit in."

"For your information, I was not thinking of a dinner party. Besides, I think you and I are both a little too young to celebrate that way all of the time," he replied.

Maeve leaned in, "So what did you have in mind."

"A party, in your honor, at Reggie's," he stated.

Maeve squinted her eyes in confusion, "You're going to have to clarify. The only Reggie's I know is a club in downtown Manhattan."

Stedman smiled, "Good, then you know where it is than."

Maeve sat back in surprise, "Of course. Everyone does. I just, umm, didn't think you would be into that."

"Why?"

"I can't quite picture Ms. Harold there," she tried to reply tactfully.

"She doesn't follow me everywhere, Maeve," he commented.

Maeve took a sip of her water, Good to know, she thought.

"So do you want to go?" Stedman asked.

Maeve tilted her head to him, "Aye. Sound like fun."

"Good," he said, lifting his hand for the check.

"We'll go back to my office, you can sign the papers and I'll see you at Reggie's at, let's say 9?" he continued.

Maeve nodded, "Sounds like a plan. Can I bring my associates?"

"It's your party, Maeve. Bring whomever you want."

The waitress came to their table with the check in hand. Maeve watched as Stedman signed the receipt for his credit card. She didn't really know what she liked about him, but it had been there from the beginning. Although she warned herself not to go there, she couldn't help it. The more she was around him, the more she liked him. It was a chain reaction. This was going to be an interesting night. Although she was happy to have the business taken care of, the thing she found herself most excited about was seeing the man in front of her out of his clothes…work clothes, she corrected in her head. And in a pair of jeans.