Two #3
Her face remained neutral for several seconds before a look of terror slid over it.
“Thanks.”
She mouthed the words, Oh shit.
“Pardon me?” Dane cleared his throat, crossing his arms, staring down at me from his towering height.
At six-five, the man looked down on practically everyone, but that wasn’t the reason people stopped to stare at him on the street.
It was the way he walked, like he owned the world and you were just visiting, breathing his air.
Confidence rolled off him, like he had everything figured out.
And it turned out, he did. Nothing rattled Dane Harcourt, except his wife … and me.
“Jory?”
“Wait.” I smiled up at him as he squinted down at me. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“No?”
“Okay, lis—”
He grabbed my arm and yanked me sideways, pulling me into the alcove between the door and the restroom. Looking around, I saw the envious looks cast my way—and not only by women. Hard not to want to be the one Dane Harcourt was manhandling.
It was the jet-black hair and granite eyes with chips of silver in them, the chiseled profile, and the deep, resonant sound of his voice that did it.
His height, the broad shoulders and chest, the way his clothes fit like everything was custom-made—just the bearing of the man being a classic-movie-star god took your breath away.
My brother belonged in magazines, not at a drafting table.
“Joshua Peretti has—had,” he corrected himself, “mob connections. Everyone knew that. It was the reason I refused to design for him. What were you doing there?”
I explained about being at a job and then agreeing to be Jeffrey Franklin’s wingman and how I had saved Eddie out on the patio. I talked really fast because with the way Dane was looking at me, I only had minutes to live.
“You can’t go on dates,” he told me the second I was done.
Where had he gotten from my explanation that I was on a date?
“No, I … it was business first and then fun and—”
“Jory, you can’t be some guy’s wingman once you’re married. It’s considered—”
“Why not? I’m not the one going on a date.”
His eyes pinned me there like an insect under a microscope.
“Listen to me. You do not—”
I cut him off, “Who’s Adrian Miller? Eddie said his brother and Joshua Peretti and Adrian Miller were all in business together.”
I watched the muscles in his jaw clench.
“Adrian Miller is a thug. His construction company doesn’t just clean up building debris; he cleans up all kinds of things.”
“Like what things?”
“Like people things,” he snapped at me, his hand suddenly on my shoulder, squeezing. “You are not to go near Eddie Liron or his brother, Cristo, or Adrian Miller again. Do you understand me? Are we clear?”
I wondered vaguely if he realized that I was a grown-up. “Dane—”
“Are you listening to me?” he asked, his voice stern.
“How do you really know what kind of business Adrian Miller or—”
“You used to work for me. You know how close my ties are to the construction industry. All the people I collaborate with will not work with Adrian Miller, and neither will you.”
“I don’t work with him now,” I defended myself. “I went with Jeff Franklin—who ditched me, by the way—and ended up meeting Eddie Liron. I hadn’t planned any of it.”
He nodded, his eyes locked on my face. The scrutiny was unnerving.
“What are you doing here?”
“It should be obvious that I’m going to have brunch at one of my favorite restaurants. I might remind you that I’m the one who brought you here the first time.”
Oh yeah.
“Where’s Aja?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. I want your word that you’re going to stay away from Eddie Liron; his homicidal brother, Cristo; and Adrian Miller.”
I gave him a long-suffering sigh. “Agreed. I’ll tell Eddie my brother said I can’t play with him anymore.”
The squint became an all-out scowl.
“Oh, for crap’s sake, is it ride Jory day? Because if it is, I missed the memo.”
“Let’s eat,” he ordered, walking away from me so I had no choice but to follow.
I threw up my hands in defeat.
“Do what I say,” he warned me as we rejoined the others.
He didn’t even have to turn around to know I was disgusted with him.
“Introduce me,” he commanded.
So, I introduced Dane to Michelle and Lisa and watched them both.
Michelle took a breath and remained cool, but Lisa …
I watched the woman puddle to the floor right there.
She looked up and up, her head tilted all the way back so she could look into Dane Harcourt’s face.
When he smiled, she, like everyone else, saw the flecks of mercury in his eyes.
The shiver was adorable, her indrawn breath expected.
But he wasn’t in the mood to be charming.
He didn’t offer her his arm to lead her to the table; he grabbed me instead, shoving me ahead of him, pointing toward the back, where I only ever sat when I dined with him.
I did not tell Dane about agreeing to see Eddie Liron again. I didn’t bring up the fact that I was going to be introduced to his brother. Even when I felt my phone vibrate with the text message, I kept it to myself.