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“I’ll have to change that,” he says.
The waitress, Marsha, appears, notepad in hand, and eyes glued to Byron. “I haven’t seen you in here before,” she purrs, her cheeks slightly flushed.
I make eye contact with Jewell and roll my eyes. What is it about good-looking — okay, incredible-looking — men who turn normal women into drooling disasters?
“Well, if the food turns out to be as good as it smells, I’ll have to become a regular... Marsha,” Byron says after looking at her name tag. He practically beams at the waitress, irritating me more than I’m already irritated at the whole ridiculous situation.
Marsha giggles, actuallygiggles, making me roll my eyes again. But as Byron turns to give the waitress his full attention, his leg brushes against mine, and my agitation morphs into a case of hormonal overdrive. I try to pull away from him, but he pushes a little closer, and I can’t find an escape.
“What can I get you to drink?” Marsha asks, as if knowing she’s been staring too long without speaking.
“I’ll take a Johnnie Walker Blue, on the rocks,” Byron replies, and the waitress practically flutters her eyelashes before rushing away to fill his order. He’s lucky that bottle is in here.
“It must be nice to fluster people like that,” Jewell says with a laugh, and Byron turns to her with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, come on, Byron, you have to have noticed the way our waitress drooled all over you. And she’s normally sane.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, but I know he’s very aware of his effect on people — on women in particular.
“I’m starving,” Jewell tells us, “so please figure out what you want to eat. We should get our orders in before the rest of the people piling through the front doors place theirs.”
We’re silent for a few moments as we all look down. I stare at my menu, not seeing a thing on it. Thankfully, I’m a creature of habit and already know what I want, so I won’t be required to use my brain for a while. When Byron sets his menu down, he captures Jewell’s attention. She throws him an amused look that I have no doubt is meant to irritate me. And it works.
“So, Jewell,” he asks point-blank, “are you going to tell me what’s going on with McKenzie? What is she so desperate to hide from me?”
I gasp in outrage. “There’s nothing going on,” I tell him before Jewell can say a word. I look sternly at Jewell before turning back to Byron. “And if there was something going on, Jewell would remain loyal to me andnotspill my secrets.”
From the mischievous look on Jewell’s face, I have a sinking feeling my friend isn’t above selling me out. I was with Jewell when one of Nathan’s calls came in, and though I tried to cover things up as much as possible, I was shaken, and Jewell voiced her concern. At least the guy hadn’t shown up in person.
“I know women like to stick together and all, but if McKenzie’s in trouble, don’t you think it would be in her best interest to have as many people helping her as possible?” Byron asks, reaching across the table and patting Jewell’s hand.
I want to punch him. “I’ll repeat thatnothingis going on,” I practically growl.
“I think your friend likes to keep secrets,” Byron remarks to Jewell. Then he turns and looks at me, first making me want to squirm in my seat, then ticking me off. He’s reducing me to something like a scolded child. I don’t like it.
“She isn’t sharing with me right now, Byron. If she was, and if I felt she needed help, I’d agree with you,” Jewell tells him. That takes me by surprise.
“Okay, I can accept that,” Byron says. He gets a mysterious look in his eyes and turns back to Jewell, a megawatt smile suddenly on his lips. “Is she dating anyone?”
Both of us fall utterly silent for a moment. I’m the first to recover. “Don’t you dare answer that, Jewell,” I insist, but it’s Byron I glare at. “I’m working for you right now, Byron... for some strange reason. And I care about doing a good job. But my personal life isnoneof your damn business.”
He shifts, his leg glued to mine, and though I want to remain angry, his touch isn’t helping me achieve that. He leans in way too close, his expression unchanging, and speaks only when he knows I’m completely tuned in to him.
“I want to get to know you more, learn every... little... thing about you. Whatever it is between usispersonal. If you can’t take the heat, I suggest you walk away right now,” he warns.
It takes a moment for me to say a word, then my shoulders rise up, and I glare at him. “And if I do?”
He says nothing for so long that I don’t know if he’s going to answer, but eventually his lips, which tightened with his last words, turn up again, this time in a far more conquering smile. And it scares me. “Be my guest, Little Miss McKenzie. I’m not forcing you to work for me.”
I hesitate a moment before glaring at him again. “Yes, you are. You completely bullied me into the job.”
“I’m a businessman, Ms. Beaumont, and I know how to get what I want.”
“And if I walk away?”
“You have free will,” he tells me. “Or you seem to... sometimes. Do you want to walk away?”
As I stare into Byron’s eyes, I forget Jewell’s sitting across from us. I’m only thinking of myself and the man next to me. Do I want to leave? That’s the million-dollar question. Or billion-dollar — someone in my line of business has to take inflation into account. I should want to leave, want to get as far from him as I possibly can. But is that what Ireallywant? I can’t say the words that might set me free. And I don’t understand why not.
“I didn’t think so. You’re as curious as I am about what in the hell is going on between us,” he says before turning his attention back to Jewell. “So, tell me, when was McKenzie’s last relationship?” He goes on as if we haven’t just had a spat, a tense moment, or whatever in the hell we’ve had. I’m in so much shock at him questioning my friend, I don’t protest this time.
