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“Thanks, but it’s out of your way. I’ll be fine.” Nyla smiled.
Not sticking around, I headed back upstairs to my office.
Angelina followed, grabbing her purse. “I’ll be late coming in tomorrow, so hold all my calls.”
“Why?” Angelina quizzed.
My eyebrows lowered in annoyance. “None of your business.”
“Fine,” Angelina spat, snatching her jacket off the chair and marching to the elevator.
I glanced at my watch—11 PM. I usually tried to make it home before nine but running two businesses demanded more of my time.
I opened the lobby door to my waiting car and saw Nyla at the pickup area. Tossing my things in the back of the Escalade, I climbed into the back seat and slammed the door, ignoring her standing alone. If her boyfriend cared about her, he’d prioritize picking her up rather than letting her find her own way home.
As my driver pulled away, I looked out the back window to see her still standing alone. I sighed, knowing I was about to do something unusual for me. “Turn around. We need to go back.”
“Yes, sir.” Carter, my driver, paused at the stop sign on the main road and put the car in reverse. He smirked when I told him to pick up Nyla.
“Wipe the smirk off your face,” I grumbled.
The bastard chuckled. He was lucky we’d become close friends since he’d been hired as my driver and guard. Since I’d been shot, Madre had made me promise to increase my security.
Nyla squinted to peer inside as the car drew level with her. She backed up in shock as I rolled the window down.
“Get in.”
“No, thank you.” She turned away.
“You want to be out here alone when drunks come out looking for a way to find the money they lost?”
Her gaze darted from left to right. “My ride is on its way.”
“If it were, then you’d be gone by now. I’m just trying to be nice.” I shrugged, rolling the window back up.
“Wait!” Nyla blurted.
Pushing the door open, I slid along the seat to allow her to enter. “Thank you,” she said, closing the door.
I angled my head, taking in her features under the streetlights illuminating the car. “Do you wait out there every night?”
She shifted in her seat, drawing my gaze to the voluptuous curves overflowing her dress uniform. “No.”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and the simple gesture sent my tongue darting along my bottom lip. “Where do you live?”
“Not far. Downtown Chicago.” She clasped hands in her lap.
“Give Carter your address.”
I took in the glow of her amber-brown skin as she did as I asked. She fixed her gaze out the window to avoid mine.
“Keep staring long enough, and I’ll think you're interested,” Nyla joked.
Chuckling, I leaned back in the seat and pulled out my phone. I scrolled through my messages to see who I could pop in on for a little visit.
“How old are you?” I raised an eyebrow at Nyla’s sudden question.
“Why do you want to know?”
