That was a close call. A lesson for me too, perhaps. In trust. But can anyone blame me?
I flip open my laptop so I can bury myself in reports today when there’s a rap on my door. I wish I could ignore it, but that’s not in the cards. “Come in,” I say.
Chloe slinks inside, and her Cheshire-cat grin is more satisfied than it was last night. “I was out grabbing a latte.” She takes a long,leisurely sip from her cup. “Good thing I returned in the nick of time. I’m guessing you didn’t check your texts?”
“You texted me?”
“Dude. Yes. But also, what the hell? We agreed on night golf.”
I grab my phone and spot a text preview from her.
Chloe:Don’t you worry your pretty head off. I smoothed the path for the night golf cover-up.
I laugh. “Guess I should have checked it. In my defense, though, it sounded like they were talking about…you know.”
“Oh, I do know. I definitely know.” She pops up on my desk, perching her sweet ass there and crossing her legs. She blows out a too-pleased breath. “But it’s all good, Mister Fancy Pants. Especially since I know my price now.”
“Price?” I ask, arching a brow.
“For my silence,” she says, then hops off the desk. “See you at Prohibition Spirit at eight.”
She sails off, and once again I’m both dreading and counting down the hours till I see her after work.
Mostly, counting them down.
Mostly.
* * *
Is it normal to walk into a not-date a little turned on by the potential of blackmail? Not asking for a friend.
At 7:59 p.m., I open the door to the speakeasy with aready-or-not-here-I-come attitude. Fact is, I’m dying to know what’s going on in that sexy head of hers.
Will the price be, I don’t know, spicy lessons? Not that Chloe needs any. But a man can dream. If she asked me to teach her some new sex thing, I’d gladly go out and do whatever new sex thing that was with her.
Except, wait. Nope. I’m not doing that. We stopped any and all sex things a few weeks ago. Best to stay the course. I weave past tables, heading straight to the bar where she’s waiting. Kicking her leg back and forth like she hasn’t stopped since this morning.
When I join her, she says, “Well, well, well.”
“You really like saying that, don’t you?”
“I’m learning I really do,” she says.
I park myself on a stool, resigned to my fate. “All right. What’s the price?”
Her jaw drops in mock outrage. “You’re not even going to buy me a drink first?”
“I need to treat you as you blackmail me?”
She stares at me without blinking. “I feel like you didn’t read the rules of blackmail, mister.”
I sigh. “A mojito with their best rum?”
She smiles. “We understand each other.”
I lift a hand, catch Esmeralda’s attention, then place the order.
“And a whiskey sour for you?” she asks.
