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Ron pushes the salad bowl toward me and I pile my plate high with vegetables and a few slabs of glistening, supple bits of steak. Dahlia really is a good cook. I push the salad bowl toward her and pick up my fork. I'm definitely not looking at Bunny or acknowledging her knowing stare, so I arrange my face in a completely nonthreatening sort of gratitude. Maybe I look like a kindly old school principal or something.

“This looks delicious, Dahlia. Thanks a lot for having me over.”

She shrugs one shoulder, and I don't look at the way that gesture carves out a deep hollow behind her collarbone.

“Really, it's nothing,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Bunny did most of the work anyway.”

“You bet I did,” Bunny drawls. “I'm starving. Can I have the garlic bread?”

I shift in my seat, pivoting farther from Bunny’s scrutiny and decide to make polite conversation.

“So, how are you liking your new job, Dahlia?”

She glances up at me and smiles, clearly happy that I remembered. That smile sends darts through my chest. I will have to be very careful here. Very careful. My cock is still swelling to fill my jeans and if a fire broke out right now, I’m pretty sure Ron would bust me for my hard on.

“Oh I love it,” she breathes. She chews her mouthful politely, shielding her lips with her fingertips and swallowing before beginning to speak again. “I have learned so much already. Just paperwork, you know. They don’t let me do investigations or anything. But I’ve got the files all reorganized and just started taking calls a couple days ago.”

“Any interesting cases?” I ask her.

“Well… not that I could tell you, could I?” she asks sincerely. “I mean, with you being at a competing security company? Is this a trick question? Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“Ah, I totally understand where you're coming from. Good instincts, Dahlia.” I nod, noting how she sits up a little straighter as I praise her. Makes me think of all the other things I could be praising her for…

“But if you have any kind of advice for me…” she continues.

I'm cautious, afraid to say too much at this point. I still feel Bunny’s eyes sweeping over me, tallying everything that I say. Ron is just chewing enthusiastically, tearing garlic bread into manageable hunks before stuffing them in his mouth.

“Just keep your eyes open. Learn everything you can,” I offer. “It takes time to absorb everything that you need to know about the personal security business. Years, even. So keep your mind open, absorb every detail. You never know when something useful is going to come up.”

She nods somberly. “Got it. I'll watch everything.”

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“Then you're off to a great start. Some people are harder to watch than others. My new client, I’ll tell you… he’s a handful,” I start conspiratorially. I love the way her eyes brighten, since she knows I probably shouldn't even be mentioning it to her.

“You have a new client? Anybody we know?” Bunny says, also leaning in closer.

Her face is clear of suspicion now. She's totally engaged in what I'm saying. And I really shouldn't be bringing it up, but to create a useful diversion, I figure I can tell them at least a little bit.

“Well, this has to stay between us, you understand?”

They both nod solemnly, their eyes as wide as cartoon characters. Some dirty part of my brain imagines both of them at once, naked and eager, begging me to give them a juicy morsel.

I push the thought rudely out of my mind. I can't be doing that. No.

“Well you know the Empty Chair Recording Studios is here in town,” I begin. My voice is thick but nobody seems to notice. “Pretty hot stuff from what I understand. You heard of it?”

“Oh, sure,” Bunny smiles. “It's like a secret, but also not-so-secret location for hotshots to do some new recordings, far away from LA or New York, right? Some rapper owns it?”

“Right. All enclosed, full-service, with a couple of penthouse suites. Underground parking and a swimming pool. Walled-in garden. In fact, if you haven’t been invited to the party, you could walk right past the building and not even know anything's going on.”

“So… who's here?” Dahlia asks breathlessly, immediately getting it. I watch her fingernails go dark pink as she presses her fingertips against the tabletop.

“Oh, I don't even know if you've heard of him. Some Seattle guy, Kirkman, um —”

“Kirkman East?” Bunny screeches, pushing herself half up from the table. “Are you kidding me? Kirkman East is who you're protecting?”

Dahlia bites her lower lip between her teeth and lowers her chin a little bit. “Is that who it is?” she asks quietly.

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