Starfire(54)
“You don’t know everything, D-man.”
He shook his head, smiling. “Only Nancy calls me that.”
“How about David?”
His smile disappeared at the mention of his original name, and he started walking faster. I had to trot to keep up, as we headed up a hill. San Francisco really is as hilly as it looks in movies.
I caught up and linked my fingers with his. “Dalton, I want to know who you are, and I want to know who David Blake is, especially if I’ll be marrying him.”
“My name’s been legally changed.”
“So, I’ll be Mrs. Deangelo?”
“I don’t know. Will you?”
“I have to. I signed the agreement that I’d do ANYTHING.”
“If you change your last name, you’ll be Peaches Deangelo. Hmm.”
“I could hyphenate. How long is your publicist planning for us to be married?”
“How do you know I have a publicist?”
“Someone was posting pictures of an egg white omelette on your social media accounts while you were drinking champagne in the bridal boutique. Plus you told me, back when we first met.”
“I can’t get anything by you.” He stopped and peered at the menu posted outside a restaurant with a sprawling sidewalk patio. “Dinner here?”
“Sure. And then what?”
“After dinner, I’ll take you back to my hotel room and make sure you know your wifely duties.”
My jaw dropped and I held my hand over my mouth. “Excuse me, but I told you I have a boyfriend.”
“Yes, but you’re both seeing other people, so don’t act like you’re not going to spend tonight in my bed. He’s with that little blonde right now, probably. I know things too, Peaches. I have my little birdies who tell me stories.”
“Who told you?”
“I took your little friend out for a milkshake. Not the tall one. The short blonde. She’s cute as a button.”
I staggered back two steps. It’s hard to explain exactly how Dalton talking about Golden made me feel, but I kinda wanted to projectile vomit all over his face.
I stammered, “Why would you do that? Talk to my friends, about my life?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Is talking to your friends really so different from you asking my butler about me?”
“Very different. Vern is smart, and he wouldn’t tell me anything you didn’t want me to know, I’m sure. Golden, on the other hand, is… excitable.”
“She sure is.” He grinned his Drake Cheshire, devious vampire grin.
“If you so much as touched one of her perfect little curls, so help me, I will never look at you again.” I started looking around for something to beat him with.
He kept grinning, enjoying my jealousy.
The nearest thing was a plastic bucket full of water, put out for people’s dogs. I picked it up and tossed the water on Dalton. “Stop smirking!” I yelled.
I doused him.
If we hadn’t already attracted the attention of some people sitting on the nearby sidewalk patio with the yelling, my throwing dog water on Dalton had certainly done the trick.
CHAPTER 18
Dalton slowly wiped the water from one eye then the other.
Calmly, he said, “I wasn’t smirking for any particular reason. This is just how my face looks sometimes.” He slowed down his speech for emphasis, sounding like a Jack Nicholson impersonator. “And you should know about my resting smirk face by now if you watch a certain popular TV series.”
People were taking photos and video of us with their phones now.
“What did you do with Golden?” I demanded.
He wiped more dog water off his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. People were definitely staring, and recognizing him. He nodded for us to get walking again, draping his arm behind my back.
I shrugged his arm away, not wanting him to touch me.
“Don’t even tell me what you did with her,” I said with disgust.
“Vern and I were getting milkshakes at the ice cream shop, and she was there. She asked to take her photo with me, and we got to talking.”
I covered my ears with both hands. “Shut up!”
He leaned over and spoke loudly enough for me to hear him clearly through my hands. “I bought her a milkshake and we talked for a bit, then I left with Vern. You can ask him yourself, since you don’t trust me.”
I slowly lowered my hands, feeling like a jealous idiot. What had come over me? Temporary insanity? Could I blame the plane trip, the bridal shop, the champagne, or all of the above?
We were walking downhill now, and moving pretty fast. I didn’t think anyone around was watching anymore, but my rage had given me this weird tunnel vision, where I could barely see in front of me.