Page 96 of Save Me

“I’ll buy you anything you want except for shoes and chicken wings.”

“Chicken wings?”

“Same concept, except you’ll fly away instead of run.”

She laughs. “And pajamas are out. I’ll figure something out.”

“In the meantime,” I press the screen of her laptop closed, “work is over.”

“Hey,” she protests, looking so damn delicious. “I wasn’t done.”

“Yes, you were.”

She rolls her eyes and tries to scurry to the other side of the couch when I reach for her.

“No, how do you know I wasn’t in the middle of something important?”

“I don’t,” I confess. I stop short of telling her that I don’t care either. That I need to be inside of her. “Come here.”

“No.” She moves away, but I catch her wrist in my hand.

“Fine. I have a gift for you, but you can’t use it now.”

She eyes me suspiciously. “What is it?”

I place a thumb drive in her hand.

She holds it up and lifts an eyebrow.

“That’s evidence that Blackmon is paying off food critics to keep La Vie afloat. There’s also proof that he mixes lower cost products with the higher end brands to save on money and—”

“Skimp customers,” she finishes. Then her eyes narrow on me. “How did you get this information? I thought you no longer had any business affiliation with Blackmon, aside from him being a member of the club.”

“That’s a done deal,” I say immediately. “There is no business relationship.” Technically, that’s not true, but after tonight it will be. Blackmon is done with the Global Group, and therefore, we have no business ties.

“I had a private investigator look into his business dealings with the restaurant.”

Pulling back, she eyes me with suspicion. “Why? And who is this private investigator?”

“A friend,” I answer.

“I need to verify this information. Can I speak with him?”

“No. But the information is verified, and in the file are names and contact information of past and current employees willing to speak with you.”

She moves to open her laptop.

“This is for the high-end restaurants? Maybe there’s some connection with his chain res—”

I close her laptop.

“Everything will be there Monday morning when you return to it.” I pull the laptop from her reach and place it on the glass table with the thumb drive.

“Now, thank me for giving it to you,” I order as I move over the top of her, forcing her to lay against the couch’s pillows.

“Thank you.”

I frown. “That’s it?”

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