Chapter sixteen
Angel slid down into the booth next to Stewart.
She wanted to bring up her observations with Davey's manager, but if Tyler was so tight-lipped, it stood to reason that McAllister's manager was not going to want to chat about it either.
At least not here. She figured she found the missing link that he didn't want anyone knowing about—potential PR nightmare.
She didn't owe them anything, yet. Did she want to get involved with this?
She somehow felt protective over Davey already.
He was her client now, at least for the next few weeks, and she kind of liked being on the team.
Besides that, Tyler seemed sweet and protective over Davey as well, and she trusted her gut on things like that.
Stewart stared at her with dark eyes, the kind that could see right into your soul.
Stewart had to be pushing thirty, but he appeared to keep fit.
He obviously took care of himself as well as he took care of Davey.
She didn't know a lot about the man, except he worked for Princeton, Davey's main sponsor, and his life was to make sure Davey McAllister lived up to his responsibilities as their top driver.
He would be signing her paycheck in order to ensure the same thing.
"Davey's going to approve some of the pics tonight. Tomorrow we can look at the video footage and all that."
Angel laughed. "You're not going to get approvals from that boy tonight." She knew damn well he would be with Tyler Whitmore. Stewart looked down his wide nose at her. She gulped. She shouldn't have said anything.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing," she gave him a flirty smile. "Just, you know? Boys will be boys." She didn't know how else to backpedal her words. They would have to have a serious talk about the issue soon enough, though.
Stewart leaned closer to her. He smelled like Italian dressing, garlic and just a hint of that Stetson cologne.
Very manly. Suddenly, she wasn't thinking about Davey and Tyler anymore.
She saw dark eyes, dark hair, and a quick tongue licking at kissable lips surrounded by dark scruff that made Stewart look even more rugged with him now wearing a cowboy hat.
"There'll be plenty of time," he whispered.
Angel hoped he meant more than posting pictures on the internet or talking about Davey's affair. "Time for what?" she drew her words out seductively.
"What do you have in mind, Angel?"
She leaned in, seeing a spark in his eye.
She knew how to read people. She'd been ignoring the electricity between them in order to be professional.
Stewart slid closer, bumping his thigh up against hers.
The heat of his leg sent a shiver up her spine.
"Why don't we find somewhere, uh, more private to talk about it," she suggested. Fuck professional; she wanted him.
"Sure." The word rolled suggestively off his lips and had her wanting to hear what other sounds she could make come out of his mouth.
They stood up and she followed him out of the bar. It was going to be a good night.