Page 18 of Outplayed

“This’ll mean nothing,” she warned.

“Just dinner.”

Her head jerked back. “What? No way.”

“Violet, dinner.”

“No.”

Funny she hadn’t tried to close the door again. “Dinner,” I demanded. She could use me all she liked, but I would be sure to get something in return. “Just a couple of hours with me while we eat. That’s all I’m asking.”

She groaned, running a hand over her face, and said, “Fine. I’m too tired to argue.” With that, she turned and walked down the hall. I stepped in. Grinning, I locked the door and followed her.

When I entered the living room, I saw her walking to another doorway. There she turned. She looked from my feet up to my face, nodded, entered the room, and slammed the door behind her.

I got the message loud and clear. I wasn’t to enter the room, and knowing her, if I tried, she would have a gun pointed at my face in seconds. Even if she did look exhausted.

Moving to the couch, I sat down, turned the TV on low, and leaned back. Pulling my phone free, I sent a text to Link.

Staying. Get me a reservation at the club in Melbourne.

Link: She agreed to dinner?

Me: Reluctantly and I may have pushed for it.

Link: You’re a dick.

Me: Not something I don’t know. How’s business?

Link: Good. Be better if I was out there instead of babysitting.

Me: You know I only trust you with Izzy.

Link:

Me: Was that a fucking smiley face?

Link: Shit, was supposed to send that to Trisha.

Me: Sure.

Link: Fuck off. Stop annoying me so I can watch Shrek for the millionth time.

Me: I’m laughing.

Link: Why are you so fucking needy today?

Me: Suck me.

Link: Not even if you’re dying. Now get lost. I’ve made the reservation. Have fun. Don’t screw this up because I’m sick of hearing about how she’s your one that got away. Your dream woman. Your… you get the damn point.

Me: I do. Have fun with Izzy.

Link: She wants to do my hair.

Me: I’m laughing again.

Link: Fuck off.

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