Page 56 of Cozen

To be fair, Jett wanted this. The man all but demanded someone keep an eye on Cozen occasionally, and was quick to tell Sargon to do the job because she was not put off by him.

Fuck.

That woman was so far from being put off when it came to Sargon, really. He put that into the what-Jett-didn’t-know-wouldn’t-kill-him category. For now, anyway. Although who was he to say. It very well might kill the man at the end of the day.

Cozen was playing games.

Sargon just didn’t know what.

He knew for a fact Jett had not been around the restaurant to ask for Cozen on her off hours. Actually, it had been a good week since Jett had even gone to eat at The Kingdom at all. Jett didn’t like the idea of Cozen being … left alone.

His boss had shit coming up—the Italian deal. Jett was trying to get things nailed down for that, and left Sargon to be the babysitter.

So to speak …

He should be annoyed.

Irritated, at the very least.

Who wanted to watch someone for hours and hours, sometimes?

Sargon, apparently.

Sure enough, at exactly three minutes past seven in the evening, Cozen came out of the restaurant. She covered up her all black attire with a long tweed coat she left opened at the middle. She had let her hair down loose and free today. Her face was nearly free of all makeup but for a red lipstick that contrasted brightly against her black clothes.

The messenger bag she always carried was thrown over her shoulder. For a brief second, Cozen stood on the stoop of the restaurant, and glanced around at her surroundings. Her gaze traveled but didn’t linger on any particular thing, and so he figured she was still unaware of his presence.

She actually didn’t live very far away from the restaurant. Four blocks or so. Although frankly, Sargon wasn’t quite sure if he would call her apartment a place that she actually lived in. He hadn’t been so caught up in her pussy that he didn’t take a second to look around.

There was barely anything there.

No pictures.

No knickknacks.

A few pieces of furniture.

Not much else. Nothing to say she had any attachment to the place. She could easily up and leave, and not feel as though she had left something important behind.

Cozen took the steps of the restaurant two at a time, and then started down the sidewalk. Something else Sargon noticed about her after watching her for two weeks—she didn’t like cabs, and she walked everywhere. Even in those goddamn silver heels.

She could run in them, too.

He figured that took some kind of skill.

Sargon readied to pull the car—a vehicle he had been given by Jett to use—from the spot keeping him shadowed, but the ringing of his cell phone stopped him. He cussed under his breath, kept one eye on Cozen as she headed further into the crowd of people coming her way, and snatched his phone up from the seat.

Goddamn.

He was going to lose her.

“What?” Sargon barked into the phone.

“Is that anyway to greet your boss?” Jett asked.

Sargon glanced up at the roof of the car, taking his gaze away from Cozen’s swaying—and disappearing—backside. She looked good walking in heels, too. A natural sway to her body that could memorize a man.

Fuck.