Page 6 of Personal Escort

Yeah, I definitely have some hero worship when it comes to Toby, so when I see him concentrating so hard his brow furrows and his mouth pulls tight, I don’t get annoyed like I do with Ben.

I find myself wanting to know what he’s worried about, and wanting to distract him, too, because it’s Sunday night and everyone deserves a break.

I assume he didn’t notice us get out of Ben’s town car, but as soon as I’m within earshot, he smirks—still looking at his phone—and says, “Only Cara Russo would make us cross the river for sushi.”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” I say lightly, stopping in front of him and covering his screen with my hand. “Plus, you like it when I pick restaurants.”

He takes his time dragging his gaze from my hand, up my arm, to my face, and when he finally looks at me, he’s grinning. I grin right back. Even in heels, I’m eight inches shorter than him.

Ben gently removes my arm and frowns, looking at me first, then his best friend, as if realizing for the first time that we know each other in a way that doesn’t directly go through him. “When have you two gone out for dinner before?”

I roll my eyes. “I swear you think I’m still in high school.”

“Aren’t you?” He pulls a teasing face, winking at me, but I’m not sure he’s completely kidding.

“I spent five years down the road from the Starfish Instrumentation campus, remember? I made him take me to the most expensive restaurants in Palo Alto.”

“A few times,” Toby says blandly. He doesn’t return his attention to his phone, he just tucks it away. He ushers me toward the restaurant, pulling open the door as he lightly touches his hand to my shoulder. “After you, troublemaker.”

I give him a cheeky grin. I’m hardly that, but anything that riles Ben up is good fun in my books.

“You were a teenager for half of those years,” Ben mutters.

I should ignore him. He’s such a typical overprotective big brother, and he’s all bark, no bite. And we’re talking aboutToby. But it’s not the Russo way to be mature with one’s siblings. I give Ben a too-innocent look. “And an adult for the other half.” Toby makes a choking sound and I turn toward the hostess. “Russo. Party of three.”

CHAPTER FIVE

TOBY

I HAVE no idea what’s gotten into Cara tonight, but she’s on fire. Ben looks torn between confused and worried and irritated, and since we’ve spent the last fifteen years ribbing each other pretty hard, I’m tempted to let him suffer.

On the other hand, I’ve never molested his baby sister, and the upstanding guy inside me wants that record straightened out.

Unfortunately, there’s a small part of me that is now stuck on a weird mental loop around the word molest and the saucy look on Cara’s face.

What the hell is happening?

Half of those years she was an adult.

Fucking hell, that is not the right takeaway from that exchange.

Half of those years you could have—

Nope.

I grab the menu as soon as we take our seats. Thank Christ for drivers. “Who wants sake?”

“Not Elana,” Cara murmurs, her eyes still twinkling.

That works as a conversation changer.

“What?” Ben leans forward. “Is that why she passed on dinner?”

I’m not following. “Is what why?”

Cara laughs lightly. “I think so.”

Ben groans and rubs his fingers against his forehead. “That would explain the crackers she was munching on in our last meeting.”

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