Page 8 of Save Me

Something sparks in his dark coal eyes.

“I was told you’ve been trying to contact me.”

“Yes.” I nod.

Before I arrived, I had a list of questions to ask Dae Kim about my investigation, but now that I’m facing him, the questions aren’t coming to me as quickly as I’d like.

Don’t blow this, Kennedy.

I lift my chin. “It’s about Sebastian Blackmon.”

His eyes narrow, but other than that, he doesn’t respond.

“He’s a former owner of The Black Opal and remains on the member list, correct?”

There’s something devilish about the way his lips shift into a smile. “As you’re a member yourself, I’m certain you’re well aware that I can’t confirm or deny the members’ names on our list.”

I knew that would be his first answer. The Black Opal has a highly discreet clientele list.

“I especially can’t divulge that information to a reporter,” he adds.

“Worried about your clientele finding their names in the paper?” I ask.

“What the members of this club do in their private lives is none of my concern.” His breath brushes across my face. It’s only then that I notice how close he’s gotten.

I must be tired because I know better than to let anyone get this close without my awareness. I move to take another step back, but my calf brushes against a piece of furniture. A glance over my shoulder reveals the black leather loveseat.

I turn to face Dae. He hasn’t budged. Instead, he continues to tower over me. Is he trying to intimidate me?

No.

That’s not it. I’ve encountered men who try to intimidate through dominance of their height or size. That’s not what Dae Kim is doing.

I move to the side to allow myself space to breathe without inhaling his woodsy scent with a hint of citrus.

“It is true that Mr. Blackmon was once an owner of The Black Opal, isn’t that correct?” I try for a different angle.

“Is that what your investigation uncovered?”

Annoyance ripples up my spine. “Do you always answer a question with a question?”

“Do you?”

I pinch my lips. I knew to expect this. Most people aren’t exactly forthcoming with reporters. Especially not investigative reporters.

Businessmen, typically, don’t want their dirty secrets uncovered. Hell, I come from a family of businessmen, probably with more secrets than I care to know about.

“Mr. Kim, I assure you I’m not here to sully your friend’s reputation needlessly.”

“There’s a difference between friends and business associates, Kennedy.”

Something about the sound of my name in his voice makes my heart rate quicken. I’ll chalk it up to the fact that I haven’t gotten any in a while.

A long while.

“I’m aware,” I reply. “Yet, when I dig into Mr. Blackmon’s business dealings, your name pops up more than once.”

His sharp gaze slices to the side. He takes his eyes off of me, and I inhale deeply for the first time since he entered the room.

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