“What are you even—”
“Tell you what,” Logan reasoned, “you can have Samantha. She’s all yours. But Lacy and I actually need to be getting on with things ourselves.”
“You have seriously lost it, Miami!”
“I’m not the one wearing a clip-on tie,” Logan retorted.
“WOULD BOTH OF YOU JUST STOP IT ALREADY?!”
For the second time in less than five minutes, the restaurant went dead quiet. By now, people seemed to be expecting it. In fact, Lacy had the horrible suspicion that several had been secretly taping the entire train wreck on their phones. Her young receptionist included.
“I’m not going to be going ANYWHERE with EITHER ONE of you, because this is under no circumstances A DATE!”
“Well I agree,” Logan muttered quietly. “The Napa Valley Red hardly lends itself well to a romantic evening...”
“SHUT UP, LOGAN!”
By now, anyone who wasn’t already watching was on the edge of their seats. The food itself had been long forgotten. Even the kitchen staff had ventured out to watch the drama unfold.
“YOU!” Lacy pointed a manicured finger at Brad’s chest. “This entire thing was a setup, curtesy of Verum Investigations. Go home to your wife! You can expect the bill shortly.”
Brad pushed to his feet, completely stunned. It took a second or two for him to catch his breath, before he offered a tentative, “...so your name’s not really Samantha?”
She handed him her card and his eyes widened in horror.
“GO!” she said.
He scampered out of his seat faster than anyone could catch him, racing desperately to the front door—tearing right past Quin and her camera in the process.
“And YOU!”
Lacy suddenly lowered her voice, her arm falling limp to her side. She didn’t have the energy to shout anymore. She didn’t have the energy to fight, or to run, or to try to see the good in things. The beautiful man staring back at her in the flickering candlelight had broken her heart.
There wasn’t anything left to say.
“...just go home.”
She was out the door without another word. Without even a glance behind her, or a thought as to who was going to pick up the check.
She was halfway down the block, poised with her hand raised in the air for a taxi, when a wiry hand grabbed her suddenly by the wrist.
“Hey!” She whipped around to see Quin’s shell-shocked face. “Are you okay? That was really intense in there!”
Lacy’s eyes narrowed as she turned back to the street. “Yeah, no thanks to you. You better have gotten a damn good picture hanging back in the shadows—leaving me all alone.”
Quin blushed self-consciously, glancing down at her camera. “Don’t worry, I got several. You came pretty close to kissing him. Did he say incriminating stuff?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We have it on video with pi
ctures to back it up. I love that secret surveillance you wear. I’m sorry I never came but—it wasn’t my fault.” She shoved Lacy playfully in the side, trying her best to coax a smile. “You never gave the secret signal.”
“The secret signal.” Lacy turned around slowly, fixing the young girl in an inescapable stare. “I was caught in the middle of an uptown pissing contest, and you expected me to dump a glass of water on myself just to get your attention.”
“...rules are rules.”
“Go. Now.” Lacy’s lips twitched up as Quin scampered away with a grin. “Before I put these kickboxing skills of mine to good use.”