Page 39 of Girl Between
It took every ounce of willpower Jake had not to argue with that statement. Especially after hearing George say ‘our girl’ like he had some claim on Dana. Instead, Jake said, “We can finish our conversation tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Dana agreed. “Goodnight, Jake.”
“Goodnight,” he said, and the line went dead.
Jake stared at his phone, wondering not for the first time if sending another man into Dana’s orbit had been a mistake.
36
“My timing is goingto set tongues a-wagging,” George teased.
Dana looked down, realizing she was in her bathrobe, hair wrapped in a towel, her skin still warm after the scalding hot shower she’d taken to wash the horrors of the crime scene from her.
“I wasn’t expecting guests at this hour,” she admitted.
“Sorry to just drop by,” George said again. “I wanted to check in on you, like I said, but I selfishly also need a nightcap and didn’t want to drink alone.”
Dana looked at the time. “I think the hotel bar is closed.”
George grinned. “And you’re telling me your swanky suite doesn’t have a mini bar?”
Dana had almost forgotten about the fully stocked bar in the corner. Considering how much time she spent haunting the local bars in the French Quarter she hadn’t gone through her supply as quickly as she’d thought.
“Pick your poison,” she said, handing George the skeleton key that unlocked the carved wooden cabinet above the wet bar.
He used the ancient key like it was second nature, perusing the cabinet contents only momentarily before making his selection. He grabbed two rocks glasses and opened the mini fridge below the barin search of ice. The freezer compartment was miniscule, but it held the necessities. George put a few cubes in each glass and added two fingers of rye whiskey. Handing one glass to Dana, he clinked his glass against hers and took a sip.
“It’s no Sazerac,” he said. “But it’ll do.”
Dana set her glass down on the coffee table without partaking. Something George noticed. “You good?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the abandoned drink.
“Fine,” she answered, sick of being asked that question. “Just not in the mood for a drink.”
George nodded. “Neither am I actually,” he said, downing what was left in his glass anyway. “But it helps me sleep after a night like tonight. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”
“About what?” Dana asked, taking a seat on the antique sofa.
George joined her. “Ruining a perfectly wonderful evening with a crime scene.”
Dana shrugged. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“I gathered that from your professionalism at the scene.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said.
George pointed at her abandoned drink. “You mind?”
“It’s all yours.”
Dana watched him knock back the amber liquid in one gulp. “Did something happen after I left?”
“No. It’s just the usual waiting game,” he drawled, words dripping in southern charm, but Dana still heard the frustration creeping through. “I appreciate you being so accommodating. You went above and beyond considering I invited you to dinner, not a crime scene.”
“Yes, and you neglected to tell me dinner meant your sister’s pre-wedding festivities,” Dana teased.
George waved her off. “This is Nawlins. I told you we’re not formal around here. Though my dates do tend to go like they did tonight. According to my sisters, it’s why I’m still single.”
“Tonight was a date?” Dana asked, her voice pitched with surprise.
