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“Fucking tech billionaire,” I mutter.
“Hello, Mr. Shark,” he counters to me because I’m a lawyer.
We look at Ash, who cocks his head. “And I’m the butcher. Say it.”
Bernie laughs. “What does that make me?”
“An angel for not running away screaming.” Emery pours himself a glass of wine with the goblets set on the table, beating our waiter over to do it.
“You’re the artist.” I smile at her and clink our wine.
“Dr. Ives, haveallyour guests arrived now?” The manager appears at our table with an angry scowl onhis lips.
“Is there a problem?” I stand to my full height, even though I know what the problem is.
Ash is the Ives family’s Black Sheep.
They eat here, too. Ash’s father and uncle despise him. Tried to cut him off. Because of me. Because of us.Theirspies are ruthless but sloppy.
I took his father to court. Got most of his trust fund as a settlement.
“Mr. Montgomery, you know we keep strict reservation times.” The manager dares to fuck with me. “You appreciate that when you get here, I seat you right away, don’t you?”
Glancing around, I see empty tables. “Have people waiting, do you?”
“Not yet, but—”
I bark out orders for all of us, choosing what everyone will eat because I know these men so well.
Ash is the easiest. He gets the same ribeye steak each time. Emery loves the pistachio-crusted wild salmon. I get the half chicken on the bone with baby potatoes and rosemary, but when I get to Bernadette, I stall.
“I’m sorry, sugar.” I glance at her gaping at me with a jaw tipped open. “What did you want to eat?”
“You’re on a roll.” She smiles. “Everything here smells delicious. Order for me, too.”
I grab the menu and scan it.
Glancing at her, I say, “Would you like what I’m having?” My eyes stray to Ash, and she catches that.
“That sounds great.”
God, if only it could be that easy.
The manager looks annoyed at me treating him like a server.
“I’ll let your waiter know.” He spins and walks away.
“I was hoping to hear the specials,” Emery jokes, but I roll my eyes at him. “Now that we have the food all settled...” He turns his attention to Bernadette. “Let’s not forgetIbought our girl here. She went home with you, Ford, and spent the morning shopping with Ash. Can I have the rest of the afternoon with her?”
“My shopping spree isn’t over,” Ash argues. “I took care of her dresses for my fundraisers, now I’d like to spoil her with some jewelry.” His eyes find mine. “Maybe get busy with her in my Defender.”
“I said no touching her, remember?” I snap and heads turn.
“Guys!” Bernie chokes on her wine. “Can we not advertise what I’m doing?” She blushes adorably. “Ash, I don’t need jewelry. But I’m happy to stroll around the city. It’s so gorgeous this time of year, and I’m free tonight, Emery.”
“I have my daughter tonight,” he says, sounding conflicted.
“She’s eighteen,” Ash says.
