Page 168 of Undercover Billionaire

He didn’t actually cut me off. He knew I wasn’t driving, and I’d stopped an armed robbery attempt here a year ago, so I’d earned the right to give him shit.

He refilled my glass. “I’ll call you a cab after this one.”

I knocked back half the glass. “Fuck that shit.” I could still make it under my own power.

“Your funeral,” he muttered before moving down the bar to take another order. This wasn’t the worst part of town, but none of DC’s darker streets were a picnic after midnight. Enough congressmen had been mugged here over the years to make that point.

I pondered how many more I’d need tonight as I swirled the drink in my glass. When I looked to my right, I got a shock I wasn’t expecting.

My new partner, Rylie, had parked her pretty butt on the stool next to mine. “Hey, Adam. Neil thought I might find you here.”

Neil had been temporarily assigned to Baltimore, and Dempsey had teamed me with Rylie in the meantime. She’d been an improvement so far—smart and easygoing.

I had no idea why she was here, but she was certainly better company than Tommy, or smelly Pete who’d vacated that stool a while ago. “Hey, Tommy, the lady here would like…” I tried to remember what she drank, but couldn’t. “An appletini.”

She waved him off. “Nothing for me, thanks. How many has my friend had anyway?”

Tommy slid down the bar and leaned toward Rylie. “He doesn’t need a date. This isn’t that kind of place.”

Rylie was looking good tonight. She’d changed out of her conservative work clothes. I’d only seen her in a skirt a few times before, and she was one hot number in a dress—nice legs.

I stifled my laugh at Tommy’s implication that she was a hooker and sat back to watch the fireworks. It would be a shame if she shot him. I liked this bar.

Of course she might just fly over the bar and put him in a choke hold for insulting her. The gentlest response I expected was for her to wave her weapon in his face and give the poor guy a heart attack. She didn’t take that kind of shit from anybody.

She surprised me by laying her creds on the bar instead of her weapon. “How many?” she asked Tommy firmly.

He backed away. “More than enough.”

“And I’m not done yet,” I added as I lifted my glass, a little surprised that she’d toned down her response. For a second I wondered if I was supposed to punch Tommy for disrespecting my partner.

Rylie grabbed my raised hand. “You’re done.”

“Fuck that.”

Her other hand jabbed my ribs, hard, as she yanked the glass away. She slid it down the bar.

“I paid for that,” I complained. Technically, I hadn’t yet, but Tommy had my credit card for the tab.

“You can finish it tomorrow,” he told me as he poured the contents down the sink.

I grabbed Rylie’s hand. “What is your problem?”

“You. We’re going to your place.”

“I told you, I’m not done yet.”

She yanked her hand free. “As your partner, I’m asking you nicely.” Making a point like that wasn’t like her, and when I got sober, I’d have to reevaluate whether she really was an improvement over Neil.

A few of the other patrons had started watching the commotion, and I decided to deescalate the argument so as to avoid their stares when I came back tomorrow. I really did like this place. I stood and steadied myself against the bar for a second. “Lead the way.”

“I’ll drive,” she said when we reached the street.

“I walked.”

She pulled me to the right, toward the hovel that I called my home in this stupid city. “First good decision you’ve made this week.”

What the hell had I done to deserve a comment like that? “Fuck you.”

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