Rebel (Wolfes of Manhattan 1)

I’d show him. I wouldn’t bail on my brothers and sister. We’d all have what was rightfully ours.

I walked out of the elevator and toward Lacey’s door, an adolescent spring in my step. I was looking forward to this. To being with her. Yeah, we’d fuck later, but I was actually looking forward to spending time with her.

Damn.

And I’d told her we didn’t have a relationship. I didn’t think I wanted one. Could I have been wrong?

I slid down the wall right by her door into a sit.

Damn.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

She was right behind that door, waiting.

The elevator door dinged, and she stepped out.

She wasn’t behind the door waiting. My heart quickened just seeing her.

“Rock, what are you doing here?”

“I came to pick you up for dinner.”

“You’re late. And I already told you I’m not going.”

“I said eight o’clock.”

“Your note said seven, genius.”

“Shit. Well, you’re here and I’m here, and our reservation is for eight thirty. Let’s go. I’ve got a cab waiting.”

“Uh…no. I canceled, remember?”

“You’re obviously not busy.” I took the grocery bags from her.

“I am, actually.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

“None of your business.”

I peeked into one of her bags. “Microwave popcorn. I see. You’re busy watching TV tonight.”

She gripped the handle of the other bag with white knuckles. “You’re such an ass!”

“Doing what I do best, baby.” I grinned.

“Go home, Rock.”

“I no longer have a home.”

“You have a luxury hotel suite. Go there.”

“Come on. Let’s go to dinner. You look great.”

“I’m in my work clothes.”

“So? You still look great. Here, let me.” I took the key from her hand and opened the door, went in, and set the groceries in the kitchen. “Any of this perishable?”

“Just the milk.”

I located the quart of milk and put it in Lacey’s refrigerator. “All done then. Let’s go.”

“You do speak English, right? You understand what ‘no’ means?”

I split my face with a grin. “I do. It means ‘let’s go.’”

She shook her head, but her lips were curving upward. She was trying to stop it, but she was melting.

“Come on. I’m going to show you how a real man treats a lady for dinner.”36LaceyI went.

I couldn’t explain why, but I went.

Fact was, I wanted to be with Rock. I was in for heartache, I knew, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Reservations for two. Wolfe,” Rock told the maître d’.

“You two?” The man darted his gaze to me.

“Yeah.”

“But your date has already arrived, sir.”

I lifted my brow.

“My date is right here beside me,” Rock said.

“She arrived ten minutes ago. Black hair, gorgeous?”

“For God’s sake.”

“This is my cue to leave,” I said.

“No. You’re not leaving. She is.” Rock walked into the restaurant.

Five minutes later he walked back out. “She’s not my date, but she’s refusing to leave without making a scene. Do you have another table for the two of us? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wolfe. We’re booked solid.”

Rock went rigid. “Let me tell you something. This is the last time my family comes to this place. You screwed up. She’s not my date.”

I tugged on his arm. “Then how did she know you’d be here?”

“She saw it on my calendar, apparently.”

“And how did some strange woman have access to your calendar?”

He sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Apparently we’re not going to have dinner, so start talking. Seems we’ve got all evening.”

“No. Fucking no. Set another place at the table,” he said. “My date and I are going to eat. Then, call the police and have Ms. Romero escorted out.”

“That would cause a scene,” the maître d’ said.

“Do I look like I care?” he asked, seething. “She will leave. She can’t afford to eat here.”

“Who is this woman, Rock?”

“A blast from the past,” he said. “One I really don’t want to deal with.”

“I think you’re going to have to deal with her.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right, but trust me. This won’t take long.” He headed into the restaurant.

Should I follow? I had no idea. In the end, though, my curiosity won. I wanted a look at this “blast from the past.”

“Ma’am,” the maître d’ said, “was he serious when he asked me to call the police?”

“I’ve never known him not to be serious. And he will boycott this place, I assure you. He and his entire family. I’d do what he asks.”

The man nodded. “Very well, then.”

I headed into the restaurant.

Rock stood at the edge of a table secluded in a corner. A very private table. I smiled. He’d arranged this for us, and at the moment, another woman was in my seat.

Not for long.

The woman was indeed beautiful. Fair skin, dark hair, and an emerald sequined dress with a plunging neckline. Bigger breasts than I ever hoped to have, and a biker tat on her shoulder.

It worked for her.

I was still in my work clothes, and God himself only knew what my hair looked like.

This woman was everything I wasn’t at the moment.