“Write down their names,” he said, pushing the paper in front of me.
I jotted down twenty names, mostly males, of people I could picture wanting to see me crash and burn.
“Do you have any friends, with a list of enemies that long?” he asked, pushing the drink closer to me.
I dropped the pen. “Not really,” I said, clasping my hands together.
“Too busy trying to get ahead?”
For some reason, his statement made me giggle. “Yeah, something like that.” I giggled again as I glanced at him.
He wrinkled his nose. “Maybe I should cut you off.” He put his hand over the glass and started to pull it toward him.
I scowled and moved quickly, placing my hand over his. “Don’t you dare! I need that drink. I earned that drink this week, goddammit.”
“Whatever you say,” he whispered.
The warmth of his hands had my thoughts drifting to the feel of them caressing my breasts. My face flushed as I realized he was staring at me.
“You feeling okay, Race?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.
I cleared my throat. “Just a little warm from the weather still. I can’t seem to cool off.” I fanned myself, pulling on the collar of my blouse.
“Sure.” He grinned, pulling his hand from my drink. “You want ice water instead? Maybe that would help cool you off.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Nope, just another martini.” I brought the glass to my mouth, watching Morgan over the rim as I polished it off.
I needed to get myself together.
I didn’t have time to fantasize.
There was someone after me, and I needed to focus on that. One slipup and whoever had it in for me would probably pounce on my shit and use it as an opportunity to ruin me.
I made a mental note—all future conversations were to take place over the telephone.
One-on-one contact could be hazardous to my health.
Chapter Nine
Martini Madness
Morgan
“You’re really purdy,” she slurred with a lopsided grin, running her finger down my cheek.
“That’s it. No more drinks for you,” I said, dragging the glass away from her.
“No! I’ve only had three,” she said as she lurched forward, pulling the drink out of my hands. “I’m enjoying myself. I’ve had a bitch of a week and I deserve to let loose a little.”
I held my hands up. “You’ve actually had four martinis, but anything you want, princess.”
Her eyes grew into little slits. “I’m not your princess,” she slurred, sounding completely adorable.
My cheeks hurt as I smiled. “I’m going to take you home now. I think you need to sleep it off.”
“Last time I checked,” she said before hiccupping, “you’re not my daddy.” A slow smile crept across her face. She scooted closer and whispered, “Unless that’s your thing.” She tried to wink, but both eyes closed, one after the other.
I leaned into her space, a breath away from her lips. “It’s not my thing, but I’m happy to act out your fantasies. But I don’t think you want to cross that line. Once you go there, there’s no going back.” I stared into her eyes.
