“Why not,” he said, setting a hand on his colleague’s shoulder.“Come have dinner with me.They’ve got the best steakhouse in town there.”
“Sounds good to me,” the other man said, smiling at Cassie.But at least he was friendly and respectful.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said and spun around to head for the elevators.Tristan didn’t miss the way Schumacher’s gaze locked on her ass, his head cocking slightly to one side.Another burst of protectiveness shot through him, but Schumacher straightened his head and engaged the other men in conversation.
He stood aside as the men all mingled in the hallway, shooting the shit.Gonna be a bit longer, he texted Cassie.
After about ten minutes, Schumacher clapped someone on the back and turned to the guy he’d invited to dinner.“Shall we get going?I’m starving.”
On our way with a plus one, Tristan told Cassie, then followed the two men silently into the elevator.He paid only partial attention to what they were talking about.Financials and projected earnings for the next quarter.
He tuned them out, focusing on their surroundings.When the elevator doors opened he stepped out first, scanning the underground parking floor.Through the glass doors he saw the company SUV waiting at the curb.He stepped through the doors, scanning for threats before opening the rear passenger door.
Schumacher and the other guy climbed in, leaving Tristan to get in up front.Thankfully the friend kept Schumacher in conversation, so he didn’t have time to make another sexist or inappropriate comment to Cassie.She exited the underground parking and turned into traffic.
The light ahead turned green.Tristan automatically looked left and right the same as she did before accelerating.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pickup barreling through the red light at the last moment, tensed as he opened his mouth to warn her.But Cassie had already spotted it and punched the gas.
The SUV shot forward with enough force to jerk his head back against the headrest, clearing the middle of the intersection just a split second before the pickup reached it, narrowly avoiding being T-boned on Schumacher’s side by a foot or two.
Conversation in the backseat stopped instantly, and the speeding truck whipped past their rear bumper and out of view.“That asshole could’ve killed me at that speed,” Schumacher burst out.“Did he run a red?”
“Yes,” Tristan answered as Cassie drove on.
“Glad you saw him, because I sure as hell didn’t,” Schumacher’s colleague said.
“I was told she’s the best they’ve got behind the wheel,” Schumacher said.
“And thank God for that,” the other man said with a smile.
Cassie drove without reply as though nothing had happened, the two of them watching their surroundings carefully.Schumacher and his guest continued their earlier conversation.
They arrived at the luxury hotel without further incident twelve minutes later.Tristan escorted Schumacher to his room, then back down to the lobby and into the restaurant to meet his friend.
“You don’t have to babysit me in here,” Schumacher said to him and Cassie near the hostess stand, then shot Cassie a smile.“Unless you’d like to join us.”
“We’ll be fine at our own table,” Tristan said before she could answer, sick of his bullshit.And he didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk anymore.
“Suit yourselves.”Schumacher and his friend followed the hostess to a plush, tufted leather booth near the back of the restaurant.
Tristan and Cassie hung back, choosing a table near the entrance.It allowed them to see anyone coming or going, with the bonus of putting distance between Cassie and Schumacher.
They sat on opposite sides of the table, each keeping their eye on half the room.“You hungry?”he asked her.
She was already opening her menu.“Starving.I hope they have bread baskets here.”
He grinned and flagged down the server.“A basket of bread, please.With butter?”he asked Cassie.
“God, yes.”
“With butter,” he told the server, and they both stuck with waters.
While they waited, he shot a glance in Schumacher’s direction.His buddy was talking a mile a minute, hands going too, but Schumacher appeared to be paying only partial attention, taking gulps of his drink as he stared at Cassie.
Tristan faced forward and subtly shifted his chair over to block her from view.Cassie didn’t notice, busy perusing the menu.But he felt better.She wasn’t a fucking piece of steak for Schumacher to salivate over.
“So how are you feeling?Tired?”he asked.
