After he left, I pulled off my coat and removed an iPad mini from my purse. I fired it up and waited for my email to open. Thirty-two new emails waited to be answered. I scrolled through the ones that weren’t important.
“You must be Sloane. I’m Zack.” A nice-looking man in a black apron smiled down at me. “I was wondering when you were going to stop by.”
“You were?” I was confused.
“Are Savannah or Abigail with you?”
Oh, he must be friend of theirs.
“No, they’re at home.”
“I see. Will there be anyone joining you?”
“No, just me.”
He looked puzzled before he pulled out the seat across from me and sat.
“Well, in that case, welcome. Do you mind if I explain the menu to you?”
“That would be nice.” I smiled at his ease and listened as he warmed up to explaining all his restaurant had to offer. In the end, I couldn’t choose, and he was delighted to make the choices for me.
He rose and called out my order to someone in the back then turned back to me. “Will your father be joining you at some point during your stay?”
My stomach twisted. How did he know my father?
“Ah…” I stumbled. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“If he does, please let me know. I have a bottle of Oban with his name on it.”
“Will do,” I whispered as he hurried away to speak to someone else. How strange was that conversation?
My phone pulled me from my confusion, and without looking at the caller ID, I answered.
“Sloane Harlow.”
“Are you avoiding me on purpose?”
My eyes shut as my annoyance took over. My ex…
“No, Grant, something just came up.”
“So I heard.” His tone dripped in sarcasm. “Well, I need you back in the city by Friday.”
“That won’t be happening.”
“You promised you’d be free.”
I shook my head. He never listened to me; he only barked out orders. Sometimes I wondered what he really saw in me. He often treated me like more of a client than someone he recently dated.
“I’m not even in Washington, Grant.” I tried to even out my breathing.
“So, your father was telling the truth. You are working on a case in North Dakota.” Seriously? I was going to kill my father. “Or is it that you’re still mad at me?”
“I am still mad at you.”
“Come on, baby, you know it was a misunderstanding.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“She is a colleague—”
“Colleagues don’t spend the night.”
“We were working late, and we fell asleep.”
I felt my anger rise to the surface. “Grant, there is so much more than just what happened with her.”
“Like what? It’s no secret I’m an ass, but I love you, and I know you love me too.”
I mouthed a “thank you” to Adam as he set my dinner down.
“I’m your arm candy when you need someone to puff up your ego.”
“Is that such a bad thing for you to do for me?”
“No, if you returned the favor once in a while, maybe, but you don’t. You know that deal was mine. I worked hard on that client, and you took it from me.”
“That’s what you’re pissed about?” He laughed like I was crazy for thinking that was a big deal. “Sloane, look what you just landed, one of the biggest mob cases of the decade. Mind you, I know you lost, but still, you got the job.”
Holy Christ! Jab number three hundred.
“Grant, we are too different. You really need to find someone who is more what you need.”
“We’re perfect for each other. You know it, I know it, and your parents know it.”
“Just because my parents like you doesn’t mean we’re a good fit.”
“I want to see you.”
“No.” I went to hang up when something plowed through my memory. “By the way, did someone call you looking for my new number?”
“One of your field runners called about two weeks ago. Why?”
Oh, my God, Grant!
“Because that wasn’t one of my runners, that was a client who I’d very much like to not hear from ever again.”
“Sorry,” he muttered sarcastically. He hated to be proven wrong. “But, Sloane, seriously, I need you—”
I hung up the phone and rubbed my forehead. I wished I known how vain Grant was before he burrowed his way into my life and my father’s. He reminded me of an alley cat I’d fed and now he wouldn’t leave no matter how many times I sprayed him with the hose.