Out of the Storm(9)

I can't do anything but smile. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of answering her question. We're here for answers to my questions, not hers. Jealous looks damn fine on Jules, though.

The building that houses Hawke & Hemingway along with my fake office makes me squirm. I can't be me there. I'm some other form of Theo. This undercover private investigator for Marco. And I don't know how to be that guy. Every word, every step in there is a struggle.

But, in here, this is my turf. And I can't have people thinking Jules is with me because I forced her to be. I also knew when picking a place, I couldn't do what I needed to do in a neutral setting, in some place where I wasn't comfortable.

When we arrive at our table, I put my hand out for Jules to take a seat and then sit on the opposite side of her. Mina keeps looking between Jules and me. "Thank you, Mina."

She narrows her eyes at me. Like I've done something wrong. Maybe bringing her here wasn't the best idea, but whatever. I can't worry about that right now. "You're welcome," she says curtly.



       
         
       
        

Jules is staring daggers into me. "So, you are on a first name basis with the hostess."

I search her eyes. She wrings out her hair, twists it like she's going to pull it back into a bun, and then lets it fall. Fuck that was sexy. She shimmies out of the sweater, which is now white and wet. Her nipples are hard, and I can see them through the red fabric. It's taking everything in me to focus on her eyes. But peripheral vision. Shit. "Are you jealous? Of Mina?"

"Pfft." She glances away. "No."

The waiter appears at the side of the table. Impeccable fucking timing. "Good evening. I'm Troy. I'll be taking care of you tonight. What can I start you off with this evening?"

I love how Troy acts like he doesn't know me because it just fuels the jealousy inside her about Mina. She thinks there's something more there than there is, and I'm going to let her keep thinking that for as long as she wants because I need her emotional, on edge, and capable of making rash decisions. This was the best fucking idea I've had the entire ordeal. It's like a date with Juliana Hemingway, and I'm going to get information out of her. I want to pat myself on the back, but I've not even gotten anything out of her yet, so I may be ahead of myself.

"Theo," Jules asks, kicking me under the table in the fucking shin.

"Huh?" I furrow my brows. Shit. That hurt.

"What do you want to drink?"

"Water. With lemon."

She laughs. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, you get whatever you want, though. What is it you want?" There was so much more to that question than her drink order.

"I'll have a Bloody Mary. But make that a virgin, please."

Troy nods.

She bats her little eyelashes, dramatically, like she's fucking flirting with one of my best friends. My blood skips the simmering stage and goes straight to boiling. "Thank you, Troy." She smiles the most delicious smile I've seen her pretty mouth make. My pulse is racing, and I try to swallow my heart back down my throat. "You're lucky I didn't kick you in the balls a second ago."

I grin. "You've already done that once. I figure you're trying to protect my jewels, Jules. You know, in case you might want a taste."

Her face and chest turn the same shade of red as her dress. I fucking love that I can see every bit of her cleavage now. That I have the perfect view of how I affect her.

"What the hell are we doing here? It's time for this to get serious. Fucking talk, Theo."





Why can't Theo Katawhateverhisnameis be ugly? Why does he have to be so … ruggedly beautiful? It'd make it a lot easier to hate him, to want to hurt him. But every second we spend together makes it more and more difficult to even entertain the idea of jabbing a knee in his crotch. But none of that changes the fact that even though I know his name, that I know what kind of car he drives-like a fucking maniac-he's still a mystery giant who knows way more about me than I know about him. 

"Why. Are. We. Here?" I ask.

His eyes never leave mine as he unwraps the cloth napkin around the silverware and places it in his lap. I swear those amber orbs are nearly my undoing when he does that. I need to look away because I'm nearly squirming in my seat, heat pooling between my legs, just like he said. But I refuse to do either of those things-look away or move. The aching intensifies to a nearly unbearable threshold, so I undo my napkin and place it over my legs. Glancing around, I notice there aren't many people surrounding us. I could reach my hand down, put pressure there, and no one would ever know. I arch an eyebrow and smile at the thought and he does the same. Does he know what I'm thinking? That it has nothing to do with this meeting?

What. Am. I. Doing? The light catches the ring on my left hand. I drop my head, breaking our contact. This is dangerous. Like him. I'm playing with fire. He's fun, but he's not the kind of guy who I imagine does any kind of commitment, who'd spend his entire life savings to open a firm for me. And here I am about to what? Throw all that away over some sparks. "Are you going to be mute the whole dinner?"

"No. I'm not, but I'm waiting for you to quit asking questions."

Troy brings our drinks and places down a napkin, then the glasses before asking what we want to eat. I've not even thought to look at the menu. I don't even know the name of this place or what they serve. Way to pay attention to your environment at all times, Jules.

Theo stares at me. "You eat meat, right? Since you were talking about growing fangs outside."

I giggle thinking back to how carefree and light it felt to be running in the rain with a stranger who practically kidnapped me … who is apparently afraid of thunder. "Yes, I can devour a great piece of meat." I bite my bottom lip. Take that however you'd like, Thunder Theo.

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. Yes, that's exactly how I'd expect a horny teenage boy to respond. Perfect. As much as I want to change my position to relieve the similar ache I'm sure he's having, I can't give him any more clues as to what he's doing to me. Because I need answers, and I need a clear head. It's time for me to take control.

"We'll have the Paidakia."

"Two Paidakia. I'll have this out for you shortly."

Theo glances up at him. "Troy."

"Yes, sir."

"Do not interrupt us unless it's to bring food."

"Yes, sir." Troy tucks his head down like some kind of submissive and walks away. I guess Theo is dominant over him. I mean, over someone's life, money is pretty much the second most important thing. And Theo has a grasp on how much of that he's going to make tonight.

After he's out of earshot, Theo leans over the table. His eyes glaze over, like an icy glacier has frozen over him. I'm unable to keep from squirming in my seat this time. Not because of any sexual throbbing, but because he's scaring me. His brows furrow. "I'm in control of this meeting, so I'm the one who asks the questions. You answer them. If at the end, I'm satisfied, then you'll have a new client. Question number one. Do you understand the terms of how this is going to go down?"

Shit. He nods, and I nod back.




       
         
       
        
"Answer me, Jules. Yes or no."

"Yes, Theo."

He smiles. "Good girl. Question two. Do you or Charlie handle Marco Santino's account?"

What the fuck is he doing asking me about my clients? And furthermore, how does he know who my clients even are? My blood begins to boil. I take a swig of the Bloody Mary. "I can't discuss current or past clients with you. There are confidentiality laws."

He tilts his head, his eyes somewhat searching mine, for what I don't know. "I figured you'd play that card."

"That wasn't a question."

He smirks. "No, it wasn't."

"Why are you asking me about my clients? What does that have to do with you becoming-"

He puts a finger over my mouth again, like he did earlier. Dammit, he needs to quit touching me. It sets me on fire, and I'm already aching with need. "Shh. I ask the questions. I'm in control, remember, agapemèni?"

I open my mouth. His finger falls beneath my teeth. His eyes widen, and then I close my lips around it, biting it before spitting it back out. "Go to hell."

"Fuck, Jules." He runs a hand through his hair before blowing out a breath, then stares out the window. "Can you explain to me how Marco's account has grown from tens of thousands to millions?"

Is he saying what I think he is? Is he actually accusing me of money laundering? Charlie got us Marco's account, but he gave it to me. So, is he saying I'm capable of this? I just. I can't even. "Excuse me?"

He stares me down. "You heard me. And. I. Ask. The. Questions."

"No. I don't know anything about that, and I don't appreciate you insinuating that our business is anything less than honest." Wait. Why would he want to invest with our company if he didn't trust us? "Why? Why do you want to be a client if you think we're shady?"

He shakes his head. "Stubborn, beautiful girl."