“I like to paint a clear one. Now, are we going to get lunch? You promised me that you’d buy me a burger. You know what I’ll do for a burger,” she said, planning on keeping her ears open to make sure Gabe wasn’t gunning for Cantrell.
He had enough issues inPhilly.
Gabe didn’t miss a beat.
“An ME, apparently.”
She didn’t flinch.
Why?
She was the winner in that one.
“He buys me steak, on a jet, with a side of lobster. I feel bad for the little water bugs, but it’s kind of their fault. When dipped in butter, they are the cat’s meow.”
He blinked.
“How do you continually pass testing?” he asked. “Do you have a cheat sheet? Because there’s no way you’re mentally stable.”
She stood.
“Tell it to the man who trained me, or the man who donated that sperm to my pretty momma. It’s going to be one of your faults. Do rock, paper, scissors to figure out who is to blame.”
He got up.
“We’re leaving the office for lunch. I don’t need anyone starting more rumors about how I’m having a secret dalliance with you.”
She shrugged.
“Does Livy think you are?”
He shook his head.
“She knows how obsessed you are with your ME—for what reason, I have no idea. I keep telling her that I know a guy…”
She held up her hand.
“You promised not to interfere or say mean things. I don’t talk shit about your partner.”
He lifted a brow.
“What’s to talk about?” he asked, curiously.
Oh.
Hell.
No.
She wasn’t going down that rabbit hole anytime soon. If Gabe didn’t realize the mother of his children had a mean streak a mile wide, was vicious like a viper, and held a grudge, that was on him.
Not her.
“Nothing,” she said. “I was trying to get you to say some shit so I could rat your ass out to Livy.”
He snorted.
“I do my own bad,” he admitted. “I don’t need your help.”
