Page 22 of All the Bright Lights

“I figured we’d just go ahead and settle up now. I am nothing, if not a man of my word.”

“Were you seriously just carrying around a half a million dollar check in your pocket?”

“Where else would you have me put it?”

“You know, you could have set up a wire transfer. You didn’t need to give me an actual check.”

“I’m old school. Now say thank you and let’s move on.”

“Wow.” I stare down at the numbers typed on the pay line. I’ve had some really good pay days, but certainly none this large. And while in some weird way it kind of feels like charity, deep down I know I earned every penny of this, though usually I don’t get it until the sale is final. “Thank you.” My eyes flutter back up toward his.

“You’re welcome.” He grins, clearly pleased that I’m pleased.

Folding the check, I tuck it into my clutch purse that’s resting in my lap.

“And here we are.” Geoff appears with our sandwiches, setting mine in front of me and Treyton’s in front of him. “Anything else you need?”

I shake my head.

“I think we’re good,” Treyton answers.

“Enjoy.” With that, he spins and heads back toward the counter.

“I’m guessing you come here a lot,” I needlessly say once he’s out of earshot.

“I do.” Treyton picks up his spicy Italian and takes a huge bite. “One of my favorite places in L.A.,” he says around a mouthful of food.

Instead of telling him not to talk with food in his mouth like I want to, I pick up my sandwich and tear off a small bite between my teeth. Instantly, the buttery bread and tender meat melt in my mouth.

“I can see why,” I admit, taking another bite.

“Good, huh?” He licks dressing off his bottom lip and I have to force my gaze not to follow the action.

“Delicious,” I say once I’ve swallowed. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

“This is one of the first restaurants I ate at when I moved to L.A. and it quickly became one of my favorites. My first place wasn’t far from here so after a long day of practice I’d stop by here on my way home.”

“So Geoff knew you before you weretheTreyton Tyler.”

“I guess you could say that. Yeah, he knew me before I made a real name for myself.”

“Makes sense why you still come here. Outside of the amazing sandwiches.” I give him a cheeky grin. “You said you didn’t live far from here. Where exactly?”

“Over on Freemont.”

“Seriously? That’s one street over from me.”

“Yep.” He nods, taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Who would’ve guessed? I just assumed you moved here and bought a mansion.”

“Well, I did. But it took me a couple of years.” He chuckles at the look that crosses my face. “So, what are we doing today?”

“What do you mean, what arewedoing?Thisis what we’re doing.” I gesture to the food on the table.

“I mean after this.”

“After this, I’m going home to get out of these clothes and soak in a hot bubble bath with a glass of wine.”

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