He shrugs in a way that I know means he’s given them the slip.“You’re here.”
“I’m not assigned to you.”
“Course not.This is your regular lunch stop.”
“I’m with someone…” There’s no need to complete the sentence as Zsofia emerges from the bathroom.She spears me with her gaze first, then turns her head and drinks down Dylan.Recognition makes for a dazzling display of her gappy smile.
“Dylan, this is Zsofia.Zsofia, Dylan Drake.”They shake hands as if they were both adults, which makes her giggle.“We ought to hurry up, Livia will be wondering what happened to us.”
“I’ve seen your naked tummy,” she says to Dylan, causing him to blink at her, and rear backwards on his heels.
“Photos with your top off,” I mouth to him.
Dylan slides a hand back through his hair, but only manages to look relieved for a second, before pointing at me.“You’ve shown her.”
“Me?God no!Her chaperone has a collection of hot man pics on her phone.”
He gets a wicked gleam in his eyes.“Whereas you only have their numbers?”
“I don’t have any wickedly hot men’s phone numbers.”
He takes a business card from his pocket, along with a pen.The click of his pen sends a weird shiver through my limbs.Then he presses the card to the centre of my chest.“Here’s the first for your collection.”
Zsofia is already skipping ahead towards the stairs, so I lurch after her rather than looking at what he’s written.Dylan follows us down and out of the restaurant onto the street.The sun is shining and there’s a bitter scent of traffic fumes mingling with that of the giant tubs of flowers marking the entrance to the park.
“Can I offer you ladies a lift somewhere?”
Livia gapes at Dylan when she realises he’s there.It takes her a little while, as her attention is so firmly focussed on her phone.
That’s when I realise the sports car belongs to Dylan, and my fantasies of pushing him into it and humping him on the back seat fill up my head again.
“Where are you going?”
“We don’t want to trouble you,” I say.Dylan Drake has a target on his head.I can’t knowingly put my charge in harm’s way, and allowing her to ride anywhere with him would be doing just that.
Livia scowls and Zsofia takes hold of my hand.“I’d be on my best behaviour.”
“I know that,” I tell her.“But we shouldn’t take up Mr.Drake’s time.”
“But he’s your friend and he offered, and my feet are tired.I don’t want to walk.”
“It’s not going to be any trouble,” Dylan remarks, one eyebrow arching upwards.“I’m heading in your direction anyway.”
I’m not sure how he knows which direction that is, but for all I know he’s in talks with the production team to do this remake musical too.I’ve no idea if he can sing.
“I don’t see there’s a problem with it,” Livia remarks, while shuffling herself closer to Dylan.She takes off her sunglasses and flutters her pretty eyelashes at him, obviously forgetting he bats for the other team.Dylan only seems amused by her antics.
“The car’s right here.”
Hand raised, he hits the automatic lock release on his key fob.The car lights flash on and off, and I expect to hear thethucka-thuckof the door locking mechanism, instead there’s a deafening bang and we’re knocked backwards towards the restaurant entrance.Black smoke fills the air.Bits of plastic and dust rain down from the sky.Holy fuck!
Time seems to crawl for several seconds.I drag Zsofia and Livia into the shelter of the restaurant doorway.Everything is horribly silent.All around us people are moving in panicked slow motion.Then, like a clapper board has been snapped for another take, there’s a massive intrusion of noise.Zsofia’s wailing.She’s scraped both knees.Livia is gaping at me wide-eyed and babbling incoherently.And Dylan… Dylan is still holding the key to a car that’s now a smoking ruin.
“My car,” he mutters, but what he’s really saying is,fucking hell, someone tried to blow me up.
-9-
-Dylan Drake-
