Page 33 of Hear Me Roar

What can I say? I wascurious.

“Yeah, I’ve got a date atnine.”

“At nine, huh? Must beserious.”

“Actually” – I caught him rubbing the back of his head from the corner of my eye – “this is the first time we’re going out. Why would the time make itserious?”

Now I wasreallycurious. I left the peppers unattended and spun around to facehim.

“Really, you don’t know therule?”

“What rule?” Both Manny and Knox asked, their brows raised high inquestion.

“Therule. If she can only go out before nine, there’s a great chance she’s seeing someone after you drop her off. But if you’re her after nine o’clock, you’re the mainevent.”

They exchanged a dubious look, matching smirks curling their lips, and then theylaughed.

“Naaah,” Manny drawled, to which Inodded.

“Yesss. Googleit.”

“And how would you know about this rule, missy?” Knox questioned, coming to loom behindme.

“Cosmo,” I quipped, pivoting back toward the choppingboard.

“Cosmo, my fuckin’ ass,” hegrowled.

“Alright, I’m outta here before you two start fucking around with your food. I’ll come by tomorrow, in case Maya has anyquestions.”

“Have a good night, Mr. After Nine O’Clock. I’ll drill you on who she is another time,” I said, giggling as Knox’s lips skated up myneck.

“See ya, bro,” my manadded.

When the door shut, his fingers dug into my waist like a vice. “Where werewe?”

“Youwere just about to start seasoning the beef tips.” I motioned toward thefridge.

“And who saidthat?”

“Me,duh.”

Sillyman.

“That little sassy ass mouth of yours is gonna-” he warned, only to stop halfway through as his phone began blaring in his pocket. With a frustrated sigh, he fished it out and took note of the screen. “You lucked out. We’ll continue this conversation when I’mdone.”

I rolled my eyes, his threat not fazing me in the slightest, as per usual, and turned back to our dinner. “Yes, Sir, Daddy,Sir.”

“This is Knox,”I said, stepping out onto the balcony forprivacy.

The number wasn’t one I recognized, but usually that meant a new client, so I always answered regardless of thetime.

“Mr. Carr, this is Ginger Scott, Amari Dorsette’s PA. How are you thisevening?”

My eyes just about bulged from their sockets. Amari Dorsette was the quarterback for the L.A.Rams.

“I’m doing well,” I almost stuttered, gazing out at the setting sun on the horizon. “How aboutyourself?”

“Likewise, thank you. I’m contacting you because Mr. Dorsette unfortunately had to part ways with his personal trainer. We’ve been searching for someone local to replace the loss, and your name came highly recommended from a close family friend ofhis.”

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