“No.” Her eyes give her away. “I’m not mad at you at all. This is the early stage of our relationship, so no expectations…”
“Did you poison this food?” I ask her. “I’m not sure I should trust it anymore.”
She scoops a spoonful of rice and slides it into her mouth, answering my question.
“I’ll make this up to you,” I say. “I’ve told you it’s a busy season at my firm.”
She nods slowly, but the look on her face is anything but understanding.
“Do you have any secret friends, Jameson?”
“Not that I know of,” I say. “Why?”
“Where do you go on Monday and Saturday nights?”
“To work.”
“I followed you as far as I could last week,” she says. “Wherever it is, you take a lot of unnecessary twists and turns to get there.”
I arch a brow. “You followed me?”
“Yes. And I lost you at the same point every time.” She crosses her arms. “Where do you go?”
“We’re not at that level in this relationship yet, Scarlett.”
“Will we ever be?” she asks. “What exactly is this relationship? Because I think I’m the only one in it.”
I hold back a sigh.
“If I went somewhere twice a week and didn’t tell you where, you wouldn’t care?”
“I would assume it’s personal, and trust that it meant something to you,” I say.
She opens her mouth to say something, but no words fall from her lips.
“I’ve been doing it for years,” I say. “Long before I met you, and it’s something I’d rather not talk about… I’m not cheating on you, if that’s what you’re assuming.”
“That’s not what I assumed.” She sighs. “Is there anything I could say to make you drop my father as your client?”
WHAT?
My fork freezes in mid-air.
“Repeat that question.”
“What would it take to make you drop my father’s case?”
“Now, I’m really confused…” I pick up a napkin. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“My father is not a good person.”
“The best clients usually aren’t…” I lean back. “And no offense, but if I wanted lessons in morality, you’d be the last person I came to.”
“I’m the definition of a good person, Jameson.”
“Good people don’t lie, Scarlett.”
“Then what does that say about you?”
