Page 33 of Cozen

“Seems she was quite focused on you, though, wasn’t she?”

Jett’s smile deepened. “She was.”

“My apologies.”

The laugh that burst from Jett’s lips took Sargon by surprise for a brief moment. His boss leaned back in his seat at the table, and tossed his napkin aside. Jett pointed a finger at Sargon, and waved it almost chidingly.

“There is something about you, Sargon, and I don’t know what it is. You’re too polite, but you’re rough around your edges. You charm and grin and go it, yet you kill a man without blinking. A beautiful young woman catches your eye—she has to be far closer to your age than mine—and you apologize because she was sweet to me.”

Sargon shrugged. “Manners are good for the soul.”

Not that he had one of those.

Manners, sure.

His mother and father taught him those for a reason.

A soul, though?

That was another one of those unworthy debates.

Jett’s gaze drifted to the doorway of the private dining area again. “Are you interested in her?”

“She’s quite beautiful.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“That’s what I noticed, Jett.”

His boss nodded once. “Well, I am interested in her.”

That tight feeing closed around Sargon’s throat again—weighted and thick, and refusing to let up for even a single breath. His stomach pained as though someone had kicked him there, but he ignored that feeling, too.

“And what would you like me to do about that?” Sargon asked.

He meant it sarcastically, but Jett took it seriously.

Shit.

“My wife has been dead a while,” Jett said. “What would you say the appropriate grieving period is before pursuing someone new?”

“You want to pursue her.”

Sargon didn’t even ask it.

Jett’s eyes darted back to Sargon’s, and glinted with the unbidden lust of a man who had a libido far more youthful than his actual age. “I liked Rowena—the woman who served me before this one. I once had a thing with her. Nothing more than her sucking me off in the back of my Benz, but it suited me well on stressful days. This girl, though, she doesn’t seem like the type.”

Sargon swallowed hard again.

Jesus.

Where had that lump in his throat come from, anyway?

“A quick blow or fuck is one thing,” Jett continued, “but pursuing someone is something else entirely when you’re a widower of my status. I wouldn’t want to offend, you know.”

Sargon doubted Jett was in any way concerned with offending anyone. “I suppose you’re not the only person in the equation, though, are you?”

Jett chuckled and waved his finger at Sargon again. “Right you are, Sarg.”