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The way he looked at me made my stomach flip.

I closed my eyes to gather myself, remembering his net worth. Getting to his fortune meant I had to get close to him, and right now he was holding the door wide open.

This wasn’t about feelings. This was business.

“Fine,” I said.

His eyebrows raised.

“I’ll reach out.” I pointed my glass at him. “When I feel like it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Good. And you owe me since you ran off the man who was paying.”

I realized my phone was still recording. I glanced at him—he was flagging down the server—and flipped my phone over, cutting the recording before I slid it into my clutch.

All I got was six minutes of ambient restaurant noise and Cardez running his mouth. Useless to me, and worse, evidence of what I’d been planning to do to a man who disappeared on me.

He ordered churros and another whiskey for himself. The churros came out hot with a chocolate dipping sauce. I bit into one and almost forgot I was supposed to be mad.

“So how you plan on topping the helicopter?” I asked, licking cinnamon sugar off my thumb.

“I gotta top it?”

“You set the bar. Now you gotta maintain it.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “So, you’re agreeing to go out with me again?”

I shrugged and bit into another churro.

He shook his head and finished his drink.

After he paid the bill, we headed outside and I pulled my phone out and opened Uber.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Ordering an Uber.”

“When I’m right here?”

“I’m capable of getting myself home.”

He slid his hands in his pockets and looked at me with that patient, annoyed expression that was starting to drive me up the wall.

“Why are you so hellbent on being difficult? I’m taking you home, Belle.”

I rolled my eyes and put the phone away. Fighting about an Uber was a stupid hill to die on.

He’d valeted his car and opened my door when it pulled up. We made small talk on the drive to my place, and at some point, his hand found its way to my thigh. The streetlights moved across his face in intervals, and I watched the strong outline of his jaw without trying to hide it.

“You’re staring,” he said without looking at me.

“Did you not stare at me through the entire dinner?”

“That’s different?”

“How?”