Page 54 of Milo

"You look lonely, Kiara," he muses, taking a sip from his frothy amber ale.

"Just because I'm alone doesn't mean I'm lonely.” I shift my body away from his perched-up knee which is almost grazing my thigh.

So much for personal space.

The server returns with one out of the two drinks I ordered. She hands me the double espresso. "And the martini?" I ask politely, placing the liquid cocaine on the table.

"It's coming," the server murmurs, her attention focused on all the men in the room and the cash sprawled across the tables. "It won't be long."

"Thank you," I say but she's already moved on to the next table. Girl's hungry, who am I to judge? I pick up the espresso by the tiny handle and bring it to my lips, taking a sip.

"So, Kiara…” Andre’s speech edges on slurred, his Eastern European accent more evident, "How long have you known Milo?"

Clearing my throat, I wipe the crema off the corner of my lip as I set the espresso on the table. "A few weeks.”

Andre hums, nodding his head. "And what is your relationship to the Don? Are you his girlfriend?"

Shit. Milo didn't give me instructions this time around.

"My relationship with Don Milo is none of your business.” I emphasize his title, hoping Andre takes a hint. His mouth opens. Oh God, he's going to pry. I quickly add, "How long have you worked for Henri?"

Andre purses his lips. "Under a year. But don't think that makes me any less important to our organization."

“Oh, I would never think that. You're clearly a very valuable member of the team.”

"I am.” He puffs out his chest like a fucking peacock. "I'm glad it shows."

"Yes, of course. That's why Henri left you out here to stand guard while he and Antoine discuss business with Milo. He clearly trusts you the most."

"Exactly.” He grins at me, greasy and proud. His demeanour makes me uneasy. "Where did Milo find someone like you?"

I blink. "What?"

"Well—" Andre slides closer to me on the bench. "You are beautiful, intelligent, and charming. A hard combination to find in our line of work."

A shiver courses down my spine, an instinctual warning that he's getting too close for comfort. "Maybe you're not looking hard enough.”

"Or maybe I don't have time to look.” He lets out a chuckle, exposing his yellowing teeth. “But sometimes...things just fall into your lap."

Ew.

"My martini is taking too long.” I grab my clutch off the table and down the espresso. "I'll get it myself. If you'll excuse me."

Turning on my heel, I head to the closest bar at the back of the lounge. Wow. That man has some serious bravado. I'm all for confidence in a man, the more the better, but Andre's confidence lacks any substance.

"Hi," I greet the bartender. "May I please get a vodka martini, onion instead of an olive."

"Oui.”

I wish I brought my Kindle. Without Milo to entertain me, I'm ready for this night to end.

In my peripheral, I see Andre stumbling toward me. Good God. There's nothing worse than misplaced confidence and drunken courage. He's determined, I'll give him that.

Andre stops beside me, resting his elbow on the edge of the bar, a grimy grin on his face.

"Let me buy you a drink, Kiara," he says, reaching for his wallet.

"No.” This time my tone is stern, serious. I'm done playing polite. He's starting to irritate me. "I can buy my own drink, thank you though."

---