Page 63 of Asher Black (The Five Syndicates)
She lifts a fry into her mouth. “Because they charge the same price even without the meat.”
“So you order the meat even though you won’t eat it?”
She shrugs. “Someone else always does.”
We both look at Xavier, who’s already done eating the steak. He’s scanning the bar for “potential threats.” I swear, those are his two favorite words. I wonder what will happen if he ever sees a potential threat.
I spot a glimpse of distinctly red hair from behind Xavier and groan, because she’s most definitely a potential threat. “Wicked Witch up ahead.”
A glower crosses Aimee’s face when she sees Minka with her crew, Nella and some other girl I don’t know the name of. They haven’t caught sight of us yet, but I have no doubt they eventually will.
Minka is a supernatural force of nature. She probably has a Team Aimee radar jammed somewhere in that size double zero sundress of hers.
“I don’t know why she’s even here. It’s not like she eats.” Aimee pushes her food away from her and stands up. “I think I just lost my appetite. I have to pee.” She moves to go but stops when she sees me stealing her guacamole. Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t actually lose my appetite. It’s just something people say when they see something disgusting.”
“I know.” I smil
e and dip a fry in the guac. “You snooze you lose.”
I watch as she makes her way to the bathroom. Once she’s in the door and out of sight, the loud murmuring in the restaurant swiftly dies down.
I find the source of the silence immediately.
Asher’s here.
Chapter Nineteen
Courage is contagious.
When a brave man takes
a stand, the spines of
others are stiffened.
Billy Graham
Asher is making his way toward me, dressed in a tailored three piece suit. Tommy’s work, no doubt. It’s all dark grey, along with the button down and tie. Whereas the button down is a silky Egyptian cotton, the suit is a lightweight wool, single breasted with slim lapels running down the front.
Wow.
He looks like he stepped off the cover of GQ. He returns the heat in my eyes with a searing glance of his own. The turtleneck I’m wearing shows no skin, yet I feel sexy in it. It’s tight, and I can see Asher’s approval as he runs his eyes down my torso, stopping for a second longer on my breasts, like he has done in the past.
He takes in the seating arrangement, eyeing Aimee’s food with a frown. After nodding to Xavier, he unbuttons both buttons on his suit jacket and takes a seat beside me. I see a flash of a holstered gun before the flap of his suit swings shut again.
As he slides in, I’m pushed further into the booth until I’m against the wall. It’s a little too small for the two of us, especially given how huge Asher is, so I’m entirely aware of the way the sides of our bodies are pressed tightly together.
When he leans over and kisses my temple, I forget to breathe.
“What are you doing here?” I eye the restroom door, hoping Aimee will hurry up and come back.
“Meeting my fiancée and her best friend for an early dinner. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking there’s trouble in paradise.” He says the last sentence sarcastically before pulling out his phone and typing something into it. Once he’s done, he hands the device to me.
On the screen is an article that literally reads, “Trouble in Paradise.” Below the headline is a picture of me walking into Carmen’s. I’m suddenly glad I’m wearing Tommy’s clothes, because I actually look good.
Really good.
I didn’t even consider that the paparazzi would take an interest in me, but now I’m glad I’m not in my typical hand me downs and thrift store clothes, most of which have been owned by at least three people before they even got to me.
