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Devil You Know(Lost Boys Book 1)(33)

By:L.A. Fiore


“It’s very kind of you to remind me, Derrick, and still I want dessert. I might even get two.”

The waitress turned her head to hide her chuckle before she said, “May I suggest the chocolate lava cake and coconut tart. Both are decadent.”

“Perfect.”

My eyes caught Derrick’s and there was that look again. He wanted to put me over his knee. He actually balled his hand into a fist and I grinned. Can you say control freak. Well handsome or not, there would be no third date for us so I, the ‘at risk for diabetes alcoholic’ stopped trying.

We parted right outside the restaurant because neither of us was interested in pretending any longer. And I had bought a new dress for this date. It was a fabulous dress—shoulderless with bell sleeves and short, just reaching my thighs. I started down the street, preferring the cool night air to a cab, and pulled out my phone to call Kimber.

“How was your date?”

“He spent most of the night discussing actuary science and then pointed out to me, after I ordered my third glass of wine, that I should be mindful of diabetes. Why on earth did you think I would connect with him?”

“He’s uptight, but I had the sense there was something else lurking under all that reserved nerdiness.”

“There is. The man’s a control freak.”

That piqued her interest. “How so?”

“Let’s just say I think he has definitely got a defiant side.”

“Oh, now I’m intrigued.”

I exhaled on a laugh. “You date him.”

“I just might.”

“You owe me a drink.”

“We’re at Silver City now, come join us.”

“There better be a dry martini with three olives waiting.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“You can say that again.”



“Yes, I can add that. When do you need this?” I’d been working with this author for close to a month on her branding, but we had finally nailed it.

“In a week, if possible.”

“Absolutely. And you want both black and white and color?”

“Please. I love it, Thea. It couldn’t be more perfect.”

“I’m happy you like it. I’ll get it to you in the next day or two.”

Dropping my phone, I studied the brand and it really was awesome. After that first request for a book cover I had found my niche. I loved my job, loved working with a client and capturing their vision through design. And most of all I loved that I could work from home. My apartment was the same one-bedroom in Chelsea that I had shared with Kimber. She moved closer to her job, a marketing job in midtown. I stayed because I adored my building and my neighbors, even being the youngest of them by a few decades.

A story on the news caught my attention. I reached for the remote to turn it up.

“Officials are calling for an investigation. This isn’t the first time evidence has gone missing from lock-up in this precinct. We’ll bring you more as the investigation unfolds.”

That was Cam’s precinct, had been Dad’s too. Evidence tampering was a serious allegation. Cam hadn’t mentioned it, but then I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. He had taken the detective’s test and had passed with flying colors. Dad hadn’t been alive to see it, but I knew he was watching over us and smiling down at how much his son was like him.

I finished jotting down my notes on the changes to the brand before heading into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, but I was hungry too and Cup of Joe was right down the street. When I arrived, it was packed. It was close to lunchtime so I wasn’t surprised. Ryder had been baking something sinful, the luscious smell of buttery pastry had my stomach growling. I hadn’t moved far into the line when I saw Derrick Glass. I immediately scoped the place out for escape routes. I was gauging how well I could slide between two tables against the far wall before moving quickly on my hands and knees to the door when I noticed Derrick walking toward me. Busted. I was surprised he approached with how our date ended unless he was preparing to dish out more rhetoric on my looming diabetes and alcoholism.

“Thea. How are you?”

I tried to read any hidden meaning in those words like are you feeling shortness of breath, any chest pains or arm pains, but it seemed he wasn’t diagnosing me, just being friendly. “Derrick. Hello. I’m good. Just getting some lunch to bring home while I work.” Yes, subtle comment that I wasn’t staying, even though I had intended to stay but not if it meant I had to share another meal with him. He would probably whip out his calculator so he could numerically as well as empirically determine the shortening of my life span because of a croissant.