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She hadn’t signed on to work for them just yet.
And she really couldn’t have Baked Alaska for dinner.
“Baked Alaska.”
“How about the steak?” he countered.
She looked pale and he knew money was tight.
“Steak? It seems expensive.”
“Then that’s what you should get,” Grady said smoothly. “Since Steele is paying.”
“Oh. That doesn’t seem fair. I can pay.”
“You being serious right now?” he asked grumpily. Was she trying to insult him?
“Uh. Um. Yes?”
She was back to stumbling over her words and looking unsure, but he was too upset to care right then.
“You’re not paying.”
“I, uh, I’m not?”
“If I didn’t let you pay for those slippers on your feet or the shoes, you’re definitely not paying for your steak and overload of sugar.”
Grady sighed. “I’d actually like her to agree to work for me, you know.”
Like Steele would allow her to say no. Now, he expected her to apologize for having the audacity to think that she would pay for her own meal. And then give in graciously.
“About the slippers—”
“No.” Dear Lord. Was she trying to give him a stroke?
She frowned. “No? What do you mean, no?”
“I mean that we are not speaking of the slippers. They are yours. As are the other shoes.”
“What other shoes?”
“The ones he was supposed to wait to give you until you got home,” Grady said stiffly.
Grady was getting pissed at him. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone else. But he could see it in the slight twitch in the other man’s fingers.
“You bought me other shoes?” she asked.
“Those ones that look like a clown threw up on them,” Steele told her
“W-what?”
“Or like a unicorn farted on them. That seems more accurate.”
A small groan escaped Grady.
“A unicorn farted on my shoes?” she said as the server cleared his throat, reminding them that he was still standing there.
“Shall I come back?” he asked.
