Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
I can see the server's eye twitching, but Adriana just keeps going, her voice getting more valley-girl by the second.
"Oh right, of course! But like, what about these little purse-looking ones?
Are they sweet? And these round ones - do they have meat?
I don't eat pork. Well, sometimes I eat pork.
Actually, what kind of meat is it? Is it like, real meat or mystery meat?
" She giggles in a high-pitched way that makes me want to crawl under the table.
"And what about these ones with the funny pleats?
Do you eat them with your hands or chopsticks? I'm terrible with chopsticks!"
The server looks like she's aging in real time. "The har gow are shrimp dumplings. The xiu mai have pork and shrimp. The xiaolongbao have soup inside—"
"Wait, soup inside? How does that work? Doesn't it spill out?" Adriana's eyes are wide with fake wonder. "That sounds so messy! Are there napkins?"
"I... yes. There are napkins. This is a restaurant. We have napkins."
"Perfect! Okay, so we'll take some of the soup ones, and the shrimp ones, and maybe some of the pork ones? Actually, how much pork? Like a lot or just a little? Because I'm trying to watch my figure." She pats her stomach.
The server scribbles something on her pad. "I'll bring you an assortment. Mixed plate."
"Ooh, a surprise. I love surprises! Thank you so much."
As soon as the server retreats, probably to question her life choices, Adriana's entire demeanor shifts back to normal. She leans across the table, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"The suits are talking about a shipment coming in tomorrow night," she murmurs, pretending to adjust her napkin. "Something about the trucking yard and making sure their 'friends' are taken care of."
"Jesus," I breathe. "You got all that from — "
"Shh." She reaches across and traces her finger along my knuckles, the touch sending heat shooting up my arm. "The grandmother behind you thinks we're adorable together. She's telling her friend about how her grandson needs to find someone who looks at him the way you look at me."
I feel my cheeks burning. "How do I look at you?"
Her finger trails up to my wrist, and she smiles — not the fake tourist smile, but that real one that makes my chest tight and has me thinking of what a new life, with her, could look like. "Like I'm the only person in the room."
Before I can figure out how to respond to that, the server returns with a massive tray loaded with bamboo steamers and small plates. She sets them down with mechanical efficiency, clearly wanting to escape our table as quickly as possible.
"Enjoy," she says curtly, already backing away.
I stare at it all. It’s a lot of fucking food, and I have no idea what any of it is.
Adriana picks up her chopsticks with practiced ease, selecting what looks like a delicate dumpling from one steamer. The way she handles them is fluid, natural — nothing like the bumbling tourist act she just put on for our server.
"Here," she says, her voice dropping to that husky tone that makes my stomach flip. She lifts the dumpling toward me, her eyes locked on mine. "Open up for me."
My mouth goes dry, and I swallow. There's something about the way she's looking at me, the way her lips curve around those words, that makes my pulse spike.
I lean forward and part my lips, letting her feed me the dumpling.
The flavors explode on my tongue — pork and ginger and something savory I can't identify — but all I can focus on is the way she watches my mouth, the satisfied little smile that crosses her face when I swallow.
"Good?" she asks, already reaching for another one.
"Yeah," I manage, my voice rougher than I intended. "Real good."
She selects another piece, but this time she eats it herself, making a small sound of pleasure that has me shifting in my seat.
"So," she says, lowering her voice as she reaches for more food, "if we can find out more about this shipment the Triads are getting in, maybe there's a way we could use that. "
She feeds me two more, her fingers brushing my lips each time, and I'm thinking she's doing this just to watch me squirm. Which, honestly, is working better than it should.
Between bites, she keeps up her listening, occasionally leaning close to whisper translations. The old ladies have moved on from my ass to debating whether we're newlyweds. The suits are talking about delivery schedules and payment schedules, nothing too specific yet.
She pops another dumpling into her mouth, moans, and licks her lips. Fuck, she is killing me.
I lean closer, grateful to have something else to focus on besides the way her tongue darts out to catch a drop of sauce on her lip. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it — we pin it on the Russians.
Make it look like Ruslan's crew hit their shipment.
Then we come here again, or we drop by the mahjong club, drop a hint to the Triads that we came across some of their merchandise during an altercation with some Russians, return it, and offer to help the Triads recover the rest of their 'stolen' merchandise.
" Her eyes light up. "Enemy of my enemy, right? "
"Shit," I murmur, impressed. "That could actually work. Get the Triads pissed at Ruslan, maybe even get them to do some of our dirty work for us."
She nods, picking up another dumpling with her chopsticks. "Exactly. But we'd need more details about when and where."
"Right. And how do we — "
"I know how we can get that information," she interrupts, but there's something in her expression that makes my stomach drop. "But you will not like it."
"What do you mean?"
She glances over my shoulder toward the table of suits, then back to me.
"That younger Triad? The one who blew you a kiss?
He's been staring at you this entire time.
" She pauses, biting her lower lip. "We get his phone number, we can track it.
I've got connections who can pull his location data, see where he goes, who he calls. "
"The MC has people who can do that too," I add. “So how do I get this guy's number?"
Adriana blinks at me, her chopsticks frozen halfway to her mouth. "Are you really that clueless?"
I blink back, and then it hits me like a freight train. My stomach drops somewhere around my boots. "Oh. Oh, fuck no."
That giggle bubbles out of her again — not the fake tourist one, but that genuine sound that completely disarms me and makes my chest do stupid things. She covers her mouth with her free hand, but her eyes are dancing with mischief.
"It's simple," she says, still fighting laughter. "All you have to do is get up to use the bathroom, and on the way there, give him 'the look.'"
"The look?" My voice cracks like I'm fifteen again.
"You know the look. The one that says you're interested." She demonstrates by giving me a sultry glance that makes heat pool in my stomach. "Just like that, but aimed at him."
"Adriana, I can't — "
"Do you have a better idea?" she says, raising an eyebrow.
I open my mouth to protest, to come up with literally any other plan, but my brain comes up empty. We need information, and this is probably the fastest way to get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it.
"Fuck," I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
She reaches across the table and squeezes my wrist. "It's just acting, Reaper. You don't actually have to do anything with him. Just put that sexy ass of yours to work and get his number."
I look into her eyes, see the trust there, the way she's counting on me. The women at Never Again are counting on me. Susan is counting on me. And if flirting with some Triad pretty boy is what it takes to keep them safe from Ruslan, then that's what I'll do.
"Alright," I say, pushing back from the table. "No time like the present, I guess."
My legs feel unsteady as I stand, and I can feel Adriana's eyes on me as I walk toward the back of the restaurant. The bathroom hallway is past the suits' table, which means I have to walk right by him.
My heart is hammering against my ribs as I approach their table. The younger guy — the one who blew me the kiss — looks up as I pass. Our eyes meet, and I make the most uncomfortable eye contact I've ever made in my life.
Inside, I'm both hoping this works and praying it doesn't.
He raises an eyebrow at me, his lips curving into a suggestive smile that makes my skin crawl and my pulse spike with anxiety. Despite every instinct screaming at me to look away, to keep walking, I force myself to give him a subtle nod.
His smile widens, and he stands.
I don’t look back as I walk to the bathroom.
It’s empty, and I heave a sigh of relief at that.
I grip the cool porcelain of the sink, splash some cold water on my face, and gaze into the mirror.
“You can do this. You have to do this. Just flirt with him a little, get his number. There’s nothing sexual about it.
It’s just harmless flirting. Come on, Reaper. ”
I pause, take a deep breath as I hear the bathroom door open.
Then I turn around, Adriana’s words echoing in my mind: it’s time to put my sexy ass to work.