I don’t pull her into me, even though I want to. I glance around, deciding it’s too busy, there are too many eyes on us.
“Come on,” I say instead, pushing away from the bar. “Follow me.”
I lead her to my office. It’s quieter here and private.
I pour us both a drink, handing one to her before leaning back against my desk. She drops into my chair like she belongs there, a small smirk tugging at her lips when I don’t tell her to move.
Normally, I would. Tonight . . . I don’t.
She looks out across the city, the lights stretching endlessly beyond the glass.
“How do you get any work done with this amazing view?” she asks.
I watch her instead. Not the view.
“Easy,” I say quietly. “I don’t look at it. How did he die?”
“Hit by a drunk driver,” she says quietly. “He died at the scene.” Her fingers twist together in her lap. “We were arguing that night, so I didn’t get to say goodbye . . . or apologise for being a cow.” Her voice cracks slightly. “He died thinking I hated him.”
“He didn’t,” I say firmly. “He would’ve known.”
“That’s what Aunt Lucy says.” She shakes her head. “But I needed to tell him myself. I needed that chance . . . and I didn’t get it.”
A silence settles between us.
“So, when you pulled away last night,” I say carefully, “that was because of him?”
She nods. “I feel guilty. I know I shouldn’t . . . it’s been a while. But I can’t help it.”
I reach out, twisting a loose strand of her hair around my finger, grounding both of us in something physical.
“Were you together long?”
She nods again, a small smile touching her lips. “Since school. Childhood sweethearts. I was fourteen, he was sixteen. Same friends, same life . . . we were never apart.”
Her voice softens. “Until that night.”
I release her hair, taking a slow sip of my drink. “Well,” I say quietly, “I’m glad you weren’t with him.”
She frowns slightly. “Why?”
“Because then you might not be here.”
Her gaze lingers on me a second longer than before.
“On a scale of one to ten,” she says, tilting her head, “how dangerous are you?”
I almost choke on my drink. A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Where did you hear I was dangerous?”
She smirks. “I can’t reveal my source. But apparently, you’re well respected around here.” Her tone is light. It puts me on edge.
“Being respected and being dangerous are two very different things,” I say evenly.
“Is Vinn above you or below you?”
I shake my head, laughing again, though it’s tighter this time. “What are you talking about? Vinn’s a friend. A businessman. Same as me.”
She watches me like she doesn’t quite believe that. “So, if I did something really bad,” she says, turning slightly in the chair, “you wouldn’t kill me?”
