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“I’m sorry?” I glance at her from the corner of my eye just in time to see her eyebrow raise. “In case you weren’t aware, firing someone typically means you don’t get to micromanage their social life.”
I frown at that little quip. Maybe it’s her tone that catches my attention. So bitter. So… hurt. The woman has no bloody clue. I did her a favor by removing any reason she had to be in the same vicinity of that bastard Riley. But no, trust Evelyn King to do the exact opposite of what would make her life even a fraction easier—she has to jump right into the frying pan and bathe herself in oil while she’s at it.
“You were in his suite,” I start. But no… my voice sounds too deep. Guttural. Less concerned and more… furious. “Half naked.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks redden further, but she does her best to sit haughtily in her seat, still aiming the can of pepper spray. “Once again, I fail to see how that’s any of your business, Mr. Bellamy.”
“Any of my business…” I’d heard those words once before, directed my way by someone else who’d fallen into the claws of Adrian Riley. It never did seem to be “my business” until the jaws of his trap snapped shut, and only I was left to clean up the mess. “Consider it a parting piece of advice,” I tell her coldly. “Stay away from him.”
“Parting,” Evelyn echoes the word, her tone crisp. “Does that mean that I can go now?”
“No.” We’re around the corner from the café, but I’m starting to entertain the prospect that she might choose to bolt into the middle of the lunch rush crowding the sidewalks. “Humor me just this once, and then you’ll be free to frolic in the uptown suites of as many men as you please. James,” I say before the man can pull up alongside the curb. “Change of plans. We’ll have lunch at my place.”
“No.” Evelyn shakes her head, and her finger seems dangerously close to pressing down on the nozzle of the can she holds. “No lunch. Not there. Not anywhere.”
“What are you afraid of?”
The question catches her off guard. She blinks. “I… I don’t. What?”
I lean in and watch her throat contort around a hard swallow. “Are you afraid that being alone with me might lead to another incident wherein—as you so elegantly put it—you get drunk and finger-fucked by your… what was it? Selfish, egotistical,ex-boss—”
“At least I don’t have to worry about being fired again,” she interjects in a surprisingly deadpan tone.
“Yes.” I find myself nodding. “There’s always that.”
“Fine.” She stows her pepper spray back into her bag and shifts around to face forward. Her legs cross primly at the ankles, her hands folding neatly on her lap. “This shouldn’t take long. I’m more than fine with the severance amount if that’s your concern.”
“Of course, though, I’ll have to subtract for the cleaning of the carpet.”
“And the sheets, too,” she retorts without a hint of inflection. She’s cold, professional, organized Evelyn King once again. The only slip in her façade is the way she bites her lower lip when she thinks I’m not looking, tugging at the plump bit of flesh.
“Yes, the sheets,” I agree. “Though perhaps I should deduct Maria’s severance from the amount as well.”
“You wouldn’t.” She faces me, her eyes wide, her lips pursed. “It was my fault. Don’t fire Maria… Though, if you do,” she adds quickly, raising her chin, “I will be more than happy to hire her. We have one reference in common, after all.”
That’s more like it. I’m used to hearing people boast about what they could buy with their payoff amount. The right number of zeros can cool any temper or sore ego. I only have to discover which sum will make Evelyn King merrily skip off into the sunset. “Don’t forget your panache for deception and colluding,” I tell her. “You and Maria seem to have that in common.”
She says nothing, her gaze focused on her window. It’s only when James pointedly clears his throat that I realize the car isn’t moving. “Sir?”
We’re parked outside of the Royal, and probably have been for at least the past ten minutes.
“I suppose we’re already done,” Evelyn says when I reach for the door on my end. Her relief is palpable—from the corner of my eye, I see her run a trembling hand through her hair, flicking aside the freshly-cut strands. “James, can you take me—”
“We haven’t even begun,” I tell her as I step onto the curb. I hold the door open pointedly and glance back to find her still seated. Her expression reminds me of a cat Gloria had once—some imported bastard from France that tried to decapitate anyone foolish enough to reach into its carrier and drag it out. Applying feral traits to someone like Evelyn King is a surreal scenario, but I know that any limb I stick into that car will be at her mercy. Teeth or nails? One look at her, and I know the answer.Teeth, definitely. I find myself gritting my own at the memory of her slap.
“If you have anything else we need to clear up, I would prefer an email,” she says tersely.
“Ididsend you an email,” I admit. “Frankly, you were too busy cavorting with Adrian Riley and his associates to pay it much attention.”
She glances down at the pocket containing her mobile and promptly turns three shades redder. “Well… I can always—”
“Let’s not make a scene, Evelyn. I do have another meeting to attend.” One that I’m already running late for. If Ann is worth even a fraction of what I pay her, she has already found a way to stall. I have another hour to kill, at least. “Can we please get this over with, Ms. King?”
The impatient tone does her in. She frowns, but climbs from the car, and when I head for the entrance of the building, I know she’s reluctantly fallen into step. There’s a small bistro adjacent to the lobby, and I sense some of the tension in her posture loosen the moment she lays eyes on it.
“We’ll talk here?”
“Of course,” I reply, though I don’t miss how relieved she seems in the presence of witnesses. “Did you think I would actually take you upstairs? Unlike Adrian Riley, I am not so unprofessional as to meet with a colleague in my private home.”
