Page 40 of Twisted Revelations

19

Dax

Laura continued to impress me. She thought like a killer, so there wasn’t much she missed in a world I’d assumed she’d be lost in. She would rip me a new one if I revealed to her I’d lured that Acura-driving DG6 member after us.

When I’d bumped into him in the lobby, I’d pointed her out to the man, telling him that she’d lifted his wallet. I had the man’s wallet. My plan was not to kill him, but to test Laura’s reaction under a different type of pressure.

Like a fool, the man had taken the bait and followed. His wallet hadn’t produced any substantial findings, but he was one less cartel hound we had to worry about.

My devious thoughts went up in flames when Laura and Beverly came into view. Tonight, we had reservations at Charlie’s, one of the best restaurants in the city that happened to be located inside the massive hotel we resided in.

Of course, D had hacked his way into their surveillance system, which was an added bonus that would give us a leg up if DG6 lurked. He’d also added us to the top of the reservation list. We hadn’t encountered any other threats and believed keeping surveillance and staying on guard was enough to risk treating the ladies to dinner.

When I’d suggested sending them shopping earlier today, it was the first time I’d not heard a complaint from Laura’s mouth. The hotel housed at least seven high-end boutiques that they’d visited. I’d have liked to offer them more, considering the dangers they faced, but their safety was our priority.

I didn’t bother asking D what he was wearing. Like Aaron, D would put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and call it an outfit.

The dresses Laura and Beverly had chosen for dinner provided me another glimpse into their personalities. They had a superb sense of style and knew how to play up their best features in a classy way that I appreciated.

Beverly had chosen a teal-green one-shoulder dress, and although her chest was fully covered, the exposed shoulder led your eyes to that well-developed area. The lower half of the dress fanned out, kissing her figure, but not hugging.

Laura had chosen a sleek little black dress that dipped low in the chest and stopped above her knees. The dress was simple in cut, but on Laura it became unique. The dark eye-play with her makeup had me mesmerized. The daringly high heels she wore had stretched out her petite frame. She was gorgeous in a way that gripped my attention and made her linger in my mind even when I wasn’t looking directly at her.

I was proud to accompany them tonight. A pleasant smile greeted me when I approached the booth after seating the ladies in the waiting area of the restaurant. D had hung back, to do a last scan of the inside and outside of the hotel.

“Reservation for four, under Dax,” I relayed.

“Yes. Mr. Dax, your table will be ready shortly,” the Maître d’ replied.

“Thanks,” I called back to the man before I turned and approached the ladies to let them know we’d be seated shortly. The smiles on their faces revealed their happiness to partake in something besides car chases and hanging out in the suite.

After D’s arrival, we waited and lost ourselves in small talk that drew our attention away from how much time had passed. I returned to the booth, but instead of a gracious smile this time, a glare of disdain was lobbed at me.

“No need to come up. I’ll call you when the table’s ready,” the man expressed in a clipped tone before his gaze panned to the ladies and D. Why did it feel like an iceberg had dropped on me? I nodded in his direction once before I stepped away to retake my seat, determined not to mess up everyone’s night because I was so easily irritated.

One of Laura’s famous eye rolls was gifted to the man as I sat waiting patiently. Two other couples had been seated ahead of us, and I forced myself to believe that it was because we had a party of four and they were parties of two. I didn’t have a habit of wining and dining the women I dated, so I’d never been met with any hostile reactions concerning who I spent my time with.

After a few more hateful gazes was cast in our direction, I was ready to go off. My patience had evaporated. D was into something on his cell, and Beverly was his student, shaking her head at whatever he explained to her.

Laura eyeballed the host, and if the crease in her forehead got any deeper, I feared it might crack and start bleeding. I placed my hand atop her forearm. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay. We have reservations, we shouldn’t be waiting like this. Host Asshole is making us wait because he doesn’t like the company you and D are keeping,” she stated what I’d been thinking. “He’s probably a fucking republican,” she continued, boiling.

“Laura, I’m a republican. You shouldn’t assume the worst about a group by what you’ve decided to believe as truth.”

Her glare met mine.

“Would you stop preaching what I already know and let me indulge in some of my misguided ways?”

My brow lifted before I shrugged. Laura may have been right about the reason for the host’s cold shoulder but admitting it to her would only heighten her irritation.

“Dax, would you please use your white privilege and get this fool to release our table.” she commented loud enough for the host to hear and to pull D and Beverly’s attention. When the comment widened the eyes of the couple waiting, Beverly dropped her forehead into her palm to hide her face. D glared at me for answers.

I didn’t offer a reply nor was I embarrassed because I was used to Laura’s prickly attitude and unapologetic speech. My fingers brushed her smooth forearm before I stood and approached the host. I leaned across the podium that he sat high and mighty behind. My words edged out above a whisper.

“My name is Dax Marshand, from the Dallas Marshand’s,” I informed him, making his eyes go wide. “Yes, those Marshand’s. If you don’t show us to our table right fucking now, I’ll not only buy this restaurant so I can fire your ass, I’ll make sure you’re blackballed in the entire state.”

Although we got the royal treatment after the chat I’d had with the host, dinner was less than enjoyable. Every time a woman came along flirting with Laura, I couldn’t keep frowns from darkening my facial expression. The fake smiles I presented were no better than my frowns.

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