Page 38 of Sinclair Duet

Closing my eyes and pinching my lips together, I fought the onset of another headache, while concurrently considering Damien’s request. Opening my eyes, I looked down at my phone, wondering what Millie would say if I called her and told her what Damien wanted. As that thought passed by, I recalled what Niles had said earlier.

He’d told me not to do anything I didn’t want to do.

What do I want to do?

Within my closet was a full-length mirror. Flipping the switch, a round crystal light fixture filled the space with illumination. I stepped inside. In the reflection, my face was flushed and my décolletage had a rosy glow. The buzzing in my stomach told me what I didn’t want to admit.

The sensation was the same as when I’d first spotted him at the airport bar, when he wanted to pay for my lunch. This was Damien’s game. Cat and mouse. He was the master and believed he made the rules.

Lifting the skirt to my dress, I seized the waistband of my panties and pulled them down my legs and over my heeled sandals.

Meeting my own gaze, my lips slowly curled. “Fuck you, Damien. I’ve played your games before. This time, I’ll win.” I quickly switched my handbag for one a little larger. Next, I went to the dresser and found a clean pair of panties, and because hewas right about the condition of the ones I had been wearing, I stuffed the clean ones into the purse.

As I descended the staircase and the air flowed beneath my skirt, I was thankful for the length of the maxi dress. Johnathon looked up as I turned the corner in the stairs. He was exactly where I’d left him, near the front door.

Once I reached him, I grinned. “You could tell me where you’re taking me, and I could drive. Save you from waiting for our meeting to be done.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Sinclair was very specific.”

“How often do you fetch Mr. Sinclair’s meeting guests for dinner?”

Johnathon opened the front door to the street and held it open. As I passed by, he answered, “I’m sworn to confidentiality, Ms. Crystal. I assure you, all secrets are safe with me.”

“Yet today you told me I was a rumor.”

“I apologize for that, ma’am. I’d rather you don’t mention that to Mr. Sinclair.” He opened the back door of a large black SUV.

“How often?” I asked again.

He stalled for a moment before answering, “You’re the first.”

“Your secret is also safe with me, Johnathon. Remember, I know what working for a man like Damien Sinclair can be like.”

“I’m happy with my job.” He closed the door.

Fastening my seat belt, I waited until Johnathon was in the driver’s seat. “Where are we going?”

“Anthony’s Chophouse.”

Pressing my thighs together, I was acutely aware of my lack of undergarments. Nevertheless, Anthony’s Chophouse was a popular restaurant in downtown Carmel. Damien could play his little games, but at a table or even a booth, surrounded by other patrons, tonight would be about verbal sparring and despite the small hint of a headache, I was ready to fight.

Gabriella

Despite the fact that Anthony’s Chophouse had opened a few years ago and it was close to my condo, I’d yet to visit the upscale steak house. If necessary, I could walk home.

Johnathon stopped the SUV near the front entry, came around, and opened my door. With a nod and a grin, he said, “Have a nice meeting, Ms. Crystal.”

I stepped from the vehicle, the warm spring air billowing the skirt of my dress. I smiled at Johnathon. “If we’re going to be working near one another...my name is Ella.”

“Ella,” he repeated.

Clutching my handbag, I climbed the steps to the front door. Large wooden doors flanked by glass created the sought-after atmosphere. Once inside, I waited for the hostess. As I did, I surveyed the luxurious spacious dining area, complete with guests and waiters. A fleeting look higher told me there were additional floors of seating.

I stepped forward. The hostess was young, younger than Johnathon, with light brown hair, wearing all black. When it was my turn, I said, “Gabriella Crystal. I’m meeting Mr. Sinclair.”

“Ms. Crystal,” the hostess smiled too big. “Please follow me.”

I expected to be taken to a table or perhaps escorted upstairs. I remembered reading about a rooftop lounge. However, instead of those options, the hostess led me to an elevator and to my surprise, pushed a button to go down.

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