Page 137 of Midnights
He leans back with a satisfied smile, confidence practically oozing across the table. “I think we’ve got everything covered here, don’t you agree, love? Unless there's something else you’d like to discuss?”
I keep my expression neutral, returning his smile with polite professionalism. “No, I think that’s everything.”
He raises a hand to the approaching waiter, handing over his card with an effortless flick of his wrist. The waiter nods and disappears, while Mike turns back to me, smile still firmly in place.
“Thanks for fitting me in.” He tacks on a wink that lands somewhere between smug and patronizing. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. But, don’t skip out on Skye. It's stunning. Feel free to reach out if you need any other recommendations.”
Oh, I bet you have all sorts of recommendations, don’t you, Mike?
His tone is smooth, but there’s a quiet arrogance behind it that’s hard to ignore.
The waiter returns with his card, and he tucks it away, shifting his focus back to me.
“I don’t want to rush you,” his voice is all easy charm, “but my car just pulled up. Would you like a ride back?”
It’s subtle, but I see the flash of heat in his expression before he masks it with another polished smile. Wow. Car service and smoldering eyes. Somebody's really pulling out the red-carpet treatment. Next thing you know he'll be offering a prenup.
“No. Thank you, though. My driver is almost here.”
He stands, buttoning his jacket with fluid ease. “Well, we’ll be in touch, Miss Taylor, that I assure you.”
He hesitates, then adds, “Would you like me to wait with you until your driver arrives?”
I'm sure he's just trying to be polite, but the last thing I need is to add another complicated man into the mix.
I keep my expression neutral, lifting my phone. “I'm sure that’s him now. Thanks again, though.”
He nods, extending a hand. I reach out to shake it, but instead of the quick, professional exchange, his grip is firm and lingers just a beat too long.
And there it is.
I hold my ground, keeping my posture relaxed, but I don’t miss the way his fingers tighten slightly before he finally lets go.
Yeah. Definitely not taking that ride.
“It was a pleasure,” he chuckles.
I nod, withdrawing my hand as smoothly as possible, then watch as he finally turns and heads for the door.
The moment it swings shut behind him, I exhale the tension from my shoulders. I track his movement, watching as he slides into a sleek, black car. Tail lights glow red against the pavement as he pulls away, disappearing down the street.
I settle back against the bench, looking at the message that popped up a minute ago.
Kane: Four minutes away.
Sliding my phone into my bag, I stand and step out into the cool evening air. A shiver rolls down my spine as the breeze snakes around me. The faint, unmistakable feeling of being watched creeps back in.
I scan the quiet street, looking over parked cars and dim shop windows. Everything looks normal, but the feeling lingers, prickling at the back of my neck.
The light drizzle turns into a misting rain, and it feels nice to just be outside. I slide my hands into my pockets, grabbing the stones I brought along. Normally, their warmth is steady, but tonight, they feel different.
I take a slow breath, forcing myself to focus on the fact that Kane is coming. He’ll be here any second. Nothing to stress about. Just an overactive imagination and a long day playing tricks on me.
Still, my muscles stay coiled and restless. I pull my jacket tighter scanning the road. My phone buzzes again, and I look down.
Kane: Here.
His sleek Range Rover rolls up moments later, barely slowing before he steps out. When his eyes lock onto mine, tension coils around him like second skin.
