At the restaurant, Jack finds us a table near the kitchen so he can face the door while I order us a bottle of wine.
“I’m playing tonight.” Sienna declines a glass when the waiter holds it out.
Dahlyla, however, thrusts her glass forward. “Love one, darling. I’m celebrating.”
“Why is that?” Under the table, I peel her hand off my knee and glare.
“One hundred million reasons, to be exact.”
Sienna pales. “No way. Gold Life stopped payment?”
“Just for now. Pending more evidence, of course.”
“Care to clue me in, ladies?” I’m well aware of the huge payout being postponed, I just want to hear the reasoning from Dahlyla’s perspective.
However, it’s Sienna who stirs. Her thick blond lashes raise and wide eyes find mine. “I heard his voice. It’s Peter. He’s not dead.”
Air whooshes out of my lungs. I sure as hell was not expecting that. “You sure it was him?”
“Yeah. I got a short recording but not enough, apparently.” Her eyes flick over to Dahlyla.
“Says who?” I will shut this shit down real fast.
“The police,” Dahlyla breaks in. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, chill out, Quinn. We gave the sound bite to our experts. The snippet is close enough to deserve more investigation but not enough to prove Peter’s really alive. Anyone can manipulate an audio file.”
“Who else knows about this?” I glare at the black woman, a spider with two flies caught in her web.
Her fake black lashes lower and raise. “Just a few in my company and the judge overseeing the case.”
“And any Tom, Dick, and Harry.” I motion the waitress for the bill. “Didn’t it occur to you that you would be putting Sienna at risk?”
“Not really. What can Peter do?”
“Well, for one thing, he could drug her, place her in her car, and disable the brakes.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. There’s no evidence to support it was him.”
“You got any other suspects in mind?” I stand, completely and totally miffed at this woman’s careless behavior with my client and maybe my future wife. “You’ll be damned lucky if I don’t slap you with a lawsuit.”
“For what?” She stands eye to eye with me, dark lips pursed, and brown eyes full of challenge.
I’ve seen a similar look in guilty-as-sin clients. There’s this complete lack of empathy even though she’s trying hard to hide it.
I’m damned good at reading people and don’t get intimidated easily. I lean over and speak low and slowly, so she doesn’t miss one goddamned word. “Criminal negligence, for starters. I’m sure I can think of some other things if I work on it.”
She looks down at the bill, grabs her purse, and fiddles opening her wallet. “Don’t be stupid, Andrew. I broke no laws. C’mon Sienna. Let’s go.”
I growl at Sienna. “You do and I’m done trying to protect you.”
My client, the woman who I’ve begun to obsess over, glances back and forth between Dahlyla and me, then puts her palms in both our faces. “I don’t have time for this. You two stay and piss it out. I need to get ready for work. Andy, please put my portion of the meal on my tab. And for God’s sake, Jack, you stay put. I never agreed to any of this.”
