“I apologize,” Leo interrupts with a smile. “You’ll have to excuse the way young people talk nowadays.”
I can hear Adam barely holding back a chuckle, but I try to keep my cool. My dad set me up on this date for some reason I still can’t figure out, so I might as well have fun on my own terms.
The waiter nods politely and departs. Then, another comes and pours us some wine.
This whole situation is ridiculous. Me, on a blind date with a man who could be my grandpa, set up by my dad, pretendingeverything’s normal. Meanwhile, the female bodyguard won’t stop staring at Adam. What the hell is her problem?
“So, Mr. Anderson. What’s the purpose of this date?” I say, exaggerating a British accent just to match the energy. The whole setup feels like a 1950s tea party—formalities and ridiculously fake smiles.
He takes the glass of wine and brings it close to his lips, his eyes looking at me over it. “You can call me Leo.”
“I am taught to respect the elders,” I say sassily, pretending I’m not shaking underneath.
Adam lets out a louder giggle this time, and the female bodyguard shoots me a death stare.
She walks up to me, places her hands on the table, and leans in. “I suggest you keep that little mouth of yours shut, Barbie.”
Adam steps in, mirroring her posture, his hand on the table in front of me, shielding me. “And I suggest you learn the difference between a warning and a death wish,” he says, smiling. “Because I’ve been dying for an excuse tonight.”
“Oh my, would you look at that. Cerberus guarding his queen,” Leo drawls, a hint of amusement curling in his tone. “It’s alright, Sloane. Miss Calvano’s got herself a rare kind of wit.”
He motions for her to step back. Her eyes linger on me, before she finally straightens back to that statue-still posture.
“You can leash your dog now, dear.”
Adam’s hands grip the table harder at that. I can almost hear the wood creak under his fingers.
My anger burns colder than his. How dare he call him a dog? He should be grateful Adam hasn’t torn his throat out yet.
Gently, I place my hand over Adam’s and raise my eyes to his. “It’s okay now.”
He doesn’t back down. His eyes stay on Leo long enough to make it uncomfortable before he finally steps back to my side.
I clear my throat. “Mr. Anderson, speak to him like that again, and you can finish this little meeting without me.”
Leo, unbothered, takes out a cigar, lights it up, and inhales the filthy smoke. “What makes you think you have any power over it?”
His words hit harder than I want to admit. For a moment, my throat tightens from the weight of knowing he’s right. Still, I force my expression smooth and straighten my posture.
“Power is overrated,” I say lightly. “Some of us get results without it.”
He hums, taking the cigar between his fingers. “Beautiful and sassy.”
The waiter arrives with my plate, setting it down with such exaggerated precision it’s almost a performance.
Leo nods to his bodyguards again. They step forward without a word.
“Escort this gentleman a little further,” he says, eyes never leaving Adam. A thin smile tugs at his mouth. “I’d like a moment alone with my date.”
“Idon’t think it’s necessary,” I blurt out in a moment of despair.
I don’t want him to leave my side, not even a few feet.
“I insist, my dear,” he says with a smirk, resting his hand over mine.
Adam moves in and plants his hand on the table right next to Leo’s, close enough to touch.
The bodyguards react fast, drawing their guns and aiming straight at his head again, but Adam doesn’t even glance at them. His focus is locked on Leo, like nothing else in the room matters.
