“Is that a problem?” she asks. “I use my own money.”
“I want you to use your lunch break to take a break. Ordering in leads me to believe that you work through your lunch.”
“And is that a problem?” She smiles up at me.
Jesus fucking Christ, this woman is charming when she wants to be. When she’s not stumbling to keep up with every snap of my fingers. When she’s not trying to predict my every storm.
When she’s not locked in my penthouse because she knows too much.
“You’re not my secretary, Amara,” I tell her as the host silently leads us to the table in the back, away from the crowd. A waiter also approached wordlessly, setting down a carafe of water and two cocktails, leaving us with a food menu. “You’re my assistant, and you need to take time for yourself once in a while.”
“Time for myself,” she echoes with a smirk. “What’s that?”
“Exactly,” I say, reaching for my whiskey neat.
Amara reaches for her drink too—and then stops.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“That’s tequila.”
“And?”
Amara still doesn’t touch it. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink tequila anymore. Now that I’m with a guy in the… Bratva.”
She mouths the last word, and it has my eyes glued to her lips. I wouldn’t mind having my lips glued to her lips. Both sets.
“Consider this a special occasion,” I tell her, and use two fingers to slide the drink closer to her.
Amara picks it up and smells it. The lime green mixture. The Tajín rim. I know what she likes, even if it’s best that she doesn’t. Unfortunately for her spicy Mediterranean and Mexican blood, vodka is the proper drink for anyone we associate with.
Though I wouldn’t mind seeing her more authentic side in private. I could use a little spice in my life.
We order several sushi rolls for the table, all her choice. And I have to admit, her taste is pretty impeccable. Everything from a volcano roll to one with eel and mango sauce and some classic nigiri. She even gets a bowl of edamame with spicy aioli.
This girl really likes heat…
I can’t help but wonder what else she likes.
“Do you want some?” she asks, picking up an edamame pod.
“I’ve never had it before. How do you eat it?”
“You dunk it in the aioli. And then you put it in your mouth and you use your teeth…”
She shows me. She squeezes the beans out with her teeth and tosses the pod in the empty bowl, licking her lips before smiling at me.
And there’s one more tick in the smirk for her.
“You were right about this place,” she says before popping a piece of spicy tuna in her mouth, then reaching for her napkin. “Seriously. It might be the best sushi I’ve ever had.”
“I take it you’ve never been here before,” I conclude, eating a piece of sashimi.
“Are you kidding?” she asks dryly. “I’ve never been anywhere even remotely like this before.”
With that, I set down my chopsticks. “Do I not pay you enough?”
A laugh bubbles out of her throat. She reaches for her drink. “I’m sorry?”
