Infinityglass (Hourglass 3)

“Most definitely.”

He reached for my glass and fished out the remaining cherry. “Here’s an idea.” He was smiling with his eyes again. “How about we negotiate?”

Dune

Chewing on the fruit gave me a second to gather my thoughts. I stared at her. “You look different.”

An obvious statement, which was why it had to be said.

Hallie raised her brows and sucked on the end of the plastic sword that had been in her drink. Her hair was as dark as usual, but her normally hazel irises were a deep brown. “Do I now?”

The changes were subtle, because her body was slim and tall like usual, but something was off. “Yeah.”

She smiled and leaned over to rest her elbows on the table. The angle and the bustier were doing a number on her cleavage. Her cleavage was doing a number on me—that was the difference. There wasn’t usually so much of it. I made a great show of not looking.

“Not one bodyguard has been able to catch me once I got into the Quarter. I’m offended—maybe impressed—that you’re here.”

“You run away a lot?”

“Every chance I get.”

“Why?”

“You’ve met my father.”

Tossing the plastic sword onto the table, she stood up straight, giving up the attempt to draw me in, and finally allowing me the opportunity to breathe normally.

“He’s not so bad.” I shifted on my stool.

“Are you kidding me?” The once-over she gave me could’ve been an X-ray. “If you’re in his corner, why haven’t you already started dragging me home?”

Because you’re lonely, and you aren’t alone right now.

Relief I hadn’t said it out loud made me a little light-headed. “I’m not a caveman. I don’t drag. And I was hoping, maybe, I could convince you to go back with me by asking nicely.”

“You aren’t going to threaten to tell my dad? That’s what they usually do: get all blustery and self-righteous and make a big point of how much trouble I’ll be in when I get home.” She shrugged. “But I never get in trouble, and they always do. You’re smart, Dune Ta’ala from Samoa.”

And just a few minutes ago, she’d acted like she couldn’t remember my name. “I need this job.”

She stepped closer and I caught the sparkles on her shoulders and neckline. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“No. Maybe.” I needed her to move back. I needed to stay objective. I didn’t need to know that she smelled like buttercream frosting. “Yes.”

“So back to negotiations. Here’s the deal. You stay here with me for a little while, let me have some fun, and we can go back together.”

“I don’t—”

“Take or leave it.” She leaned forward again, so I stared at the ceiling.

I guessed I was taking it.

Hallie patted the seat beside her. I eyed it and remained standing, wondering if she sneaked some superglue onto the leather so she could make a quick escape.

“I really just want to take you home and get you to bed—”

“Keep walking into that innuendo. Really. I enjoy it.”

“Get you to bed before your dad gets home so I don’t get fired,” I finished, with a sigh. “Please, Miss Girard?”