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Lisa’s eyebrows shoot up, and she smirks, closing her book, and eyeing Palmer carefully.
“Because you know people in Pinedale?”
I growl again. That was definitely facetious. Palmer shoots me a glare, shrugging at Lisa.
“With who?” he asks again. Lisa’s eyes dart over to my face, and she smirks again.
“Alexander Greer. He’s a fancy lawyer.”
She’s on a date with a lawyer? What kind of pot-smoking lame rebel is she?
“Where?” I spit out, remembering to move my lips. Lisa opens her mouth but closes it before she speaks, her eyes narrowing at me.
“Why?” She sounds suspicious. She should be suspicious. I’m about to fuck up this man’s whole night as soon as Lisa tells me where the hell they are.
Palmer shoots Lisa a hard look, and she rolls her eyes. At least he has my back on this, though he’d be eating my fist if he didn’t.
“La Lita. It’s a restaurant in Pinedale, but I don’t think Shelley would appreciate her date being crashed.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck what she appreciates?” I snap, turning and stalking out of the apartment.
“No,” Lisa snorts after me.
“Merch!” Palmer calls out. “Don’t do something you’re gonna regret.”
I ignore the prick. I’m not going to regret anything about what is happening tonight.
Storming down the six flights of stairs, I punch this La Lita into my phone, slinging my leg over my rig. Twenty-five minutes. I’ll be there in fifteen.
La Lita looks exactly like you think it would based on its pretentious, prissy name. All glass and white exterior with huge glass windows all lit up. I can see chandeliers and white penguin-suited waiters, and a valet is standing out the front, eyeing me as I stride up to the doors.
Through one of the large feature windows, I can see Shelley. She is sitting at a table in one of her dark red Michelle dresses, looking incredible.
Across from her is some preppy fuck in a sharp suit, and she’s laughing at something he says. Motherfucker. Her whole head is tipped back, and I can see her even white teeth. She laughs like that with me.
Her date speaks again, and she looks at him, fiddling with one of her pearl drop earrings, looking all gooey-eyed. Fuck this shit.
Zipping my leather jacket to my chin, covering my cut, I stride into the restaurant.
“Sir -.” The valet gives a half-assed attempt to waylay me, but the dark look in my eye has him choking down his words, deliberately staring blankly out onto the road. That’s right, motherfucker.
The restaurant sounds like rich places in movies. Soft piano music and glasses clinking together with everyone talking weirdly quietly. If this were a horror movie, an earsplitting scream would come next.
The hostess is the next to try to speak with me. “Sir, do you have a reservation?”
“No. I’m here with someone,” I grunt back. She blinks in surprise but doesn’t move from behind her little desk as I stride into the restaurant, my eyes zeroed in on Shelley and her suited date.
Planting my feet at the side of the table, I cross my arms over my chest, glaring down at them. The preppy fucker looks up – Jesus, does the man havegelin his hair?
“Can we help you with something?” His voice is calm and polite. Well,hefucking can’t. When I don’t respond, he frowns, and Shelley glances up at me, doing a double-take as her eyes land on my face. Her dainty little mouth makes a small ‘o’ as her eyes widen.
My eyes land on her, and I jerk my head at the door.
“Let’s go, kid.”
Shelley’s eyes narrow, her pointed little pixie chin raising defiantly.
“We’re actually in the middle of dinner.”
