Page 96 of A Lethal Game of Trust
She was getting the bus? Fuck, I could have picked her up or got her a taxi, at least.
DOM: What do you want to drink? I’ll make sure it’s waiting for you.
I wasn’t in the habit of leading girls on, but I also wasn’t a massive prick. Usually.
Depended on who you asked.
For if you were to ask Leonie staring daggers at my phone, she would certainly tell you I was the biggest dipshit she’d ever known.
Someone needed to get that girl a dictionary.
Only when she looked up from glaring did I notice the commotion.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry, but her name is definitely not down here,” the hostess said. “Oh wait, yes. It’s been cancelled. Earlier today, actually, and just with how busy…”
I scooted Leonie out of the way, smiling at the hostess and checking her name tag. “Angela, could she have booked a different table under Dominic?”
She wouldn’t have.
“I, er…” she hesitated to look away and then started typing on her screen, her gaze never off me for too long. “The last name?”
“Belov.”
The man behind her grabbing menus turned abruptly. He shook my hand with a big smile. “Mr Belov, a pleasure. How many?”
Angela stuttered. “There are no—”
He silenced her with a finger and spoke a few words into a small mouthpiece.
“Of course we have room,” he said, straightening and as I raised four fingers, he nodded and put back one of the menus. “Please, follow me.”
We walked up a steel spiral staircase and out onto a private, candle-lit terrace. Perfect, if we didn’t have Jack.
Behind me, he joked to Leonie, “Now, this is the real reason we’re friends with a Belov.”
She laughed and thanked Jack as he pulled a chair for her.
“I’ll keep an eye out for the last member of your party,” the host said as I scanned the location.
I stopped him, holding a hand out. “What’s your security package? You don’t have any surveillance out here.”
“Don’t make this a business deal,” Leonie groaned and poured herself a glass of water.
Because I would always listen to her, I unfolded my wallet and handed him my business card instead of starting the spiel I had ready, the bespoke plan I’d started putting together in my head from our walk up here.
The host, Jerry, smiled pleasantly and said he would take it to the manager and then he asked us for our drink order.
Ivy still hadn’t replied.
“A Montrachet,” I ordered for her. Since I was twenty, it was the drink I ordered for any woman and secretly judged them by.
Leo called out, “Two of those, please!”
Because that was Leo’s drink. Mum and Dad always got a few bottles of it for the summer occasions and Christmas.
“We’ll take a bottle,” I amended and sat beside Leo as a flustered blonde came out onto the terrace.
She beamed at me and placed her bag on the seat beside Jack. She was cute with a little dimple on her cheek and big brown eyes.
