Page 41 of The Bad Girl List

Shark

TREVOR

Leave it to Dad. Only he could break the electricity between me and Dominique with the force of stampeding elephants.

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

Tequila’s ears are flat against her head as she barks at my father. Dom tries to sooth her with gentle pets, but my dog is not having it.

“You disappeared from the tasting bar. I went to look for you and found a rack of shattered wine glasses and your truck missing. You didn’t answer your phone, so I came looking for you.”

Dad frowns down at Tequila, who’s barking has gained in pitch and fervor. Her tail is tucked between her legs, her ears are flat, and she’s wedged between Dom’s feet like it’s the only safe place between here and Mars.

I feel the moment when Dad sees the strange connection between Dom and Tequila. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but his sharp gaze tells me he’s taking it all in.

But all he says is, “Trevor, will you please put that animal away? She’s going to induce premature hearing loss.”

I huff in annoyance. I scoop up Tequila and head into the bedroom with her.

It’s a good excuse to cool off and calm the erection I’ve had for the last ten minutes. Being so close to Dom and touching her has left me with a raging hard-on. I’m just glad she didn’t notice. The last thing I want to do is fuck things up with her just when we’d managed to get them straightened out.

“It’s alright, Tequila,” I murmur, dropping a kiss on her head. “It’s just Dad. You know him. He always sounds like an elephant.”

Tequila hops into her crate as soon as I set her down, then lets out a high-pitched bark as I close the door. Like she has to have the last word.

“No, Dad, that big man is really scary,” I mutter, pretending to be Tequila. “I don’t care if he’s never hurt me or if you like him, he’s still really scary.”

She yips at me again. I close the bedroom door and find my dad in the process of introducing himself to Dominique. He has his classic sales guy smile plastered on his face, the one that invites perfect strangers to spill their guts and be his new best friend.

“My name is Tim Moretti. Nice to meet you … ?”

“Dominique Chen.”

There’s an expression on her face I can’t quite decipher, but I get the distinct impression she’d rather be anywhere right now instead of here.

Dad gives her hand a vigorous shake. I hope he’s not breaking all the bones in her fingers. Dad takes the concept of a firm handshake to new heights.

“Are you a friend of Trevor’s?” he asks.

“Yeah.” Dom’s eyes dart toward me.

“Is that right?” Dad’s smile widens.

Alarm bells go off in my head. I’ve seen that smile plenty of times.

Before Elle died, I used to go on sales trips with Dad. He showed me the ropes, teaching me all his tricks of the trade. If it’s one thing I’ve come to recognize, it’s that look he gets when he knows he’s about to land a big deal, like the time he got our wine on a by-the-glass list in a four-star Michelin restaurant in New York.

Except I can’t figure out what sort of deal he thinks he’s landing right now. It’s not like Dom owns a restaurant or works for one of our distributors.

“I got cut when the glass rack fell,” Dom explains, holding out her arms. “I didn’t mean to take him away from his responsibilities.”

Dad waves a dismissive hand, as if he hadn’t been pissed off and worried sixty seconds ago. His eyes are warm as he looks Dom up and down with a pleased smile.

“My son mentioned you,” he says.

“He did?”

I did?

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