Maybe. But still.
“I think I’m safe from Max’s wrath,” Simon continued. “I’m not lookin’ to take him down. I’d rather tell his side of the story. The authorities can figure out the rest.”
“His side? About how he killed Meredith Prescott?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“There’s nothin’ to say she’s dead.”
“Yeah, well.” Violet huffed. “He probably fed her body to a trash compactor, so we’ll never know.”
Simon chuckled, then reached across the table. “It’s important not to blur the lines between fact and fiction.”
“You don’t know it’s not fact,” she quipped before exhaling heavily. “You’re right. I know. I just…”
“You just what?”
“I don’t like the idea of you talkin’ to a mobster. You should have Archer do it.” Simon could likely hold his own with most people. He wasn’t a small man. But Archer … yeah, Archer was a beast.
“Trust me, Archer’s already chompin’ at the bit to talk to him.”
“Good.”
Simon leaned in. “I have to be the one to talk to Max. If he’s gonna open up about anything, it’ll be to me, not Archer.”
She knew that. She did. She’d listened to enough seasons of his podcast to understand his format. Simon was very hands-on when it came to telling the stories that he investigated. It was the reason his podcast was so popular.
“Are you worried about me, Violet?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were not.
Thankfully, the waitress returned to take their order, which gave Violet a chance to compose herself. If she weren’t careful, Simon would figure out right quick just how worried she was. And since this was supposed to be a temporary fling, it wouldn’t do either of them any good for that information to become public.
•••••
After dinner, Simon didn’t argue when Violetsaid she would drop him off at the B and B. He’d expected no less.
Since their conversation the other night at her house, she’d been putting distance between them. Despite wanting to push her to let him in, Simon knew he had to tread lightly with Violet. Pushing her would likely stamp a permanent end date on what they had, and the thought of losing her was far worse than having to spend a little time apart. When she was ready, he would be right there.
Except now she seemed put off by his needing to interview Max Adorite, the boss of the Adorite Crime Family, a.k.a. the Southern Boy Mafia. If he thought for a second that backing out of this story before it got underway would make a difference, there was a good chance he would do it. That was a first for him. He’d never met a woman who could get under his skin so easily.He wanted to make Violet happy, and if that meant altering what he did or how he did it, he would.
However, he was convinced Violet was trying to keep him at arm’s length, and this was just another reason to add to her arsenal. Because she was starting to feel something, and that scared her.
He understood. It scared him, too.
“Hey, man,” Holt greeted when Simon walked in the door. “Figured you’d be out for a while.”
“Not tonight,” he said, unable to hide his disappointment.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“No.” And he believed it when he said it. He’d seen the way Violet’s eyes lit up when he walked into the store earlier. She missed him when he wasn’t around. The same way he missed her. He just needed to slow things down some. Take this at her pace.
“You like her, huh?”
“A little bit, yeah.” He couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “She asked me to go to her cousin’s wedding.”
“That’s a good start.”
Simon hoped so, but he wasn’t so sure.
When he and Violet were together, the rest of the world ceased to exist. And when he was buried balls deep inside her, it was even more intense. But for some reason, the invitation to the wedding felt like a test. One he wasn’t sure he could pass even if he had the answers.
