Slow Burn (Dynasties Seven Sins #7) - Janice Maynard Page 0,59
stepped back, but he kept her hands in his. “One hour,” he said hoarsely. “That’s all I’m asking. One hour.”
“And you’ll feed me?”
Not even a glimmer of humor lightened his face. “Yes.”
They ended up at the same scruffy neighborhood grill where the two of them and Joshua had eaten after their abortive attempt to visit Vernon in jail. Jake asked for a booth in the back. As they took off their heavy coats, he tried to sit with Nikki like last time, but she waved him to the other side of the table. She needed a buffer zone.
Jake didn’t ask her opinion about the meal. He motioned for a waitress. When the woman arrived, he ordered two burgers, medium, with no onions and extra pickles, plus a couple of Cokes. How many times as teenagers had they ordered that exact meal and then laughed that they were so perfectly matched?
While they waited for the food, awkwardness loomed between them, filling the space, making conversation almost impossible. Finally, Nikki broke the silence. “Have you learned anything at all about the stolen money?”
Jake scowled at his drink, poking his straw through it. “Mom spoke briefly to the lawyer this morning. According to him, Vernon claims there never was a theft. He told counsel that he and Everett were hoodwinked by an unscrupulous deal. They saw a chance to quadruple Black Crescent’s coffers and took it. But the investment went belly up, and they were too ashamed to admit the truth, so they fled.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve read reports from the officers who apprehended my father. He wasn’t living in luxury.”
“I suppose that makes more sense than the two men suddenly deciding to embark on a life of crime. Doesn’t that make you feel better?”
“No. Because they should have stayed and faced the music.”
The server arrived with the burgers. Nikki dug into hers, ravenous despite the circumstances. Some women didn’t eat when they were stressed. Nikki wasn’t one of those. She had gained twenty pounds after her father’s death and Jake’s departure. Gradually, she had come out of her funk and started taking care of herself again, but it had been a struggle.
She and Jake barely spoke while they ate. The waitress brought drink refills and the check. Eventually, plates were clean, and the awkward silence returned.
Nikki looked at her watch. “It’s been an hour,” she said bluntly. “I have to go.”
Jake frowned. “We haven’t even talked.”
She glanced around at the bustling eatery. “This place isn’t exactly private, and it’s too cold outside for a long walk. Let’s call it quits, Jake. Please. You. Me. It’s a no-go. There’s nothing left.” Her chest ached.
He was everything she wanted, but there might as well have been an ocean between them. Soon, there would be...when Jake returned to Europe.
The line of his jaw was grim. He flagged down their server one last time. Jake handed the woman the check and three one-hundred-dollar bills. “We’d like to keep the table for a bit. No interruptions, please.”
The woman stared, dazed, at the cash in her hand. “You mean no change?”
“No change. No drink refills. No nothing. Is that okay with you?”
She nodded vigorously, wonder dawning in her eyes. “Yes, sir. Cone of silence. I’ve got it.” Tentatively, she touched the sleeve of his jacket. “Thank you, mister. This will make Christmas pretty special at my house.”
When the woman disappeared, Jake shrugged out of his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. It was warm in the small restaurant. They were tucked in a far back corner. No one had any reason to pass by their table. Because the lunch rush had now waned, the booth next to them was empty.
The situation wasn’t ideal, but under the circumstances, it would have to do. Nikki fanned herself with a napkin, wishing she had chosen something other than wool when she got dressed that morning. She had worn the red sweater and black skirt again with more sensible shoes.
Jake must have read her unease. “I could grab us a hotel room for an hour. If privacy would make you more comfortable.”
She gaped at him. “You’d spend two hundred and fifty dollars for one hour in a hotel?”
He shrugged. “More like five hundred probably. It’s the holidays. But, yes. If you were there, I would.”
Nikki knew what would happen if she found herself in a hotel room with Jake. The chemistry she had tried so hard to deny would spark and flame. That fantasy wasn’t conducive to