I lean forward slightly, keeping my tone sweet but steady. “Maybe he just enjoys the company of someone who doesn’t bore the fuck out of him.”
The table goes deathly still.
Nancy blinks, momentarily speechless, and for the briefest, most glorious second, I feel powerful.
Then her eyes narrow, lips curling into a sneer. “Excuse me?”
I smile pleasantly. “You’re excused.”
Warren’s hand lifts to his mouth, and I swear there’s the faintest twitch of amusement tugging at his lips.
Nancy, on the other hand, looks ready to stab me with her dessert fork.
I sit back, heart hammering, pretending to study my napkin. My pulse is racing, my hands are shaking, but for once, I don’t care.
I might look out of place here, but I’ll be damned if I act like I don’t belong.
Nancy recovers fast. The pause between her shock and fury is barely a heartbeat.
Her red lips curve into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Cute,” she says coolly. “You’ve trained your assistant to bark.”
Warren exhales quietly through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh, and sits back in his chair, watching us like he’s enjoying the show.
I feel the anger intensify, my pulse thudding in my ears. “Only when someone steps out of line,” I reply, keeping my tone light even though my fingers are gripping the edge of the table hard enough to hurt.
Nancy tilts her head, that fake smile widening. “How sweet. Maybe he’ll teach you to sit next.”
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood, but I don’t look away. “If that’s your thing, maybe you should volunteer. You seem more like the type who enjoys being on her knees.”
Warren chokes on his drink. The sound is small but enough to make my stomach twist with equal parts horror and pride.
Nancy’s face flushes a deep shade of red, the polite veneer slipping for the first time. “You really don’t know who you’re talking to,” she hisses.
I meet her glare evenly. “No,” I say softly, “but I’m starting to get the picture.”
The air between us crackles. The restaurant noise fades into a dull buzz. For a second, no one moves as we stare one another down, and then Warren clears his throat.
“Ladies,” he says smoothly, though I catch the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Shall we talk business?”
Nancy leans back in her chair, all smug poise and poisonous charm, while Warren’s calm façade gives nothing away. The room feels too bright, too polished, and I suddenly can’t breathe.
Enough.
I push my chair back and stand. The scrape of wood against marble makes half the restaurant turn to look. “You know what?” I say, my voice steady in a way that surprises even me. “I’m no longer in the mood.”
Warren’s brows lift slightly, curious but silent.
“You can cancel that room downtown,” I add, straightening my shoulders. “Find anothertoyto play your little games with.”
Before he can respond, I lean down, press my hand to his chest, and kiss him.
It’s quick, unexpected, my soft lips meeting his in a spark that lasts only a second, but I feel the jolt of it right down to my toes. When I pull back, his eyes are wide. The unflappable Mr Baxter finally caught off guard.
“Consider that my resignation,” I murmur, “Again.” My fingers are already slipping into his jacket pocket. I pluck his wallet free, open it, and take out a fifty.
He’s still staring at me when I straighten.
I turn toward the bar, ignoring the stares, and find the same waitress Nancy almost reduced to tears earlier. I press the noteinto her trembling hand. “For the trouble,” I whisper. “And next time that witch orders a drink, spit in it.”
