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"Good meeting you." I manage to infuse a note of sincerity in my voice, then turn to the others. "Later ol’ chaps."
I head out of the club, then direct my chauffeur to take me to her place. Twenty minutes later, I’m pressing the doorbell to her apartment.
I hear movement behind the door before it swings open. "You?"
46
Zara
"Expecting someone else?" Hunter smirks from his position against my door frame.
"A grocery delivery, actually." I tip up my chin.
"Lying, Fire?" His smirk widens.
"You’re the politician, not me, remember?"
He chuckles. "Touché, Councilor."
"Wish you wouldn’t call me that. I’m not a practicing lawyer anymore."
"Your skills at verbal comebacks remain as sharp."
I widen my gaze. "Is that an honest-to-god compliment?"
"Not the only one I’ve given you." He lowers his voice, and his tone is so intimate, I can’t stop the shiver that crawls up my spine.
"What are you doing here?"
"I’ve come to take you out."
"I don’t recall agreeing to come out with you." I scoff.
"It’s a last-minute…work thing." He schools his features into an expression of absolute innocence.
Work thing, my arse."Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?"
"Not my fault if your mind went to places it shouldn’t."
I flush. "I’m not going anywhere with you."
"Are you saying you’re refusing the candidate for whom you’re running a PR campaign, and your defacto boss, to meet him on an important work situation?"
I blow out a breath. "The groceries—"
"Message them and delay the delivery to tomorrow," he orders.
"Oh, so now you’re changing my grocery schedule to suit your needs?"
"Wouldn’t you change your schedule to suit my needs?" he murmurs.
"Now who’s mind is in the gutter?"
He raises his hands. "I’m simply asking you out to a business meeting, is all."
"If I postpone the grocery delivery, I won’t have anything to eat tonight." My voice sounds whiny, even to me. Jesus, when did I become such a complaining little bitch?
"Which is why I’m taking you out to dinner."
