Dirty Little Secret: A Billionaire Romance Duet - Mika Lane Page 0,12

outfit, too. “Are you going somewhere after dinner? Because I know you didn’t go to work like that.”

She smiled, dimples jumping into action. Damn, she was cute.

“You are correct, Dad. I did not dress like this for work.” She laughed and shook her head.

“So where are you off to?” Hugh asked.

“Oh, meeting friends,” she said a little too quickly.

Meeting friends, my ass.

Her answer might have fooled her dad, but I saw right through it. She probably had a booty call somewhere with some young bastard who wouldn’t realize how lucky he was. But the jerk would wake up in a few years and find he was too old to get hotties any longer. Unless he was loaded. With the right amount of money, a guy could have anything.

While Hugh and Saffi bantered, my attention drifted back to the ladies at the bar, who had not stopped staring, not even when Saffi joined us. They couldn’t know she was Hugh’s daughter, nor did they seem to give a damn.

“Varden, I understand you’re one of my dad’s clients,” Saffi said.

“Varden? Varden, you with us?” Hugh asked.

“What? Oh sorry, so sorry. I was distracted for a moment. Yes, Saffi, my hedge fund firm has been working with your dad since the day we opened. I’d say we make a pretty awesome team.” I lifted my glass.

“Cheers to that,” Hugh added. We clinked glasses and sucked down the last of our bourbon.

Over our meals, Saffi chattered about her job, which seemed like a good gig even thought the poor kid couldn’t afford her own place. That would seriously suck. But Hugh was a cool guy and probably wouldn’t have an issue with his daughter running around town like you’re supposed to do when you’re in your twenties. I smiled, thinking back to those days. I’d gotten a lot of pussy then, but being in my mid-thirties really hadn’t slowed me much. Except for that problem of late. I could get it up. Just not off.

Saffi lamented the lousy assignments the paper was giving her as well as other offenses they’d committed against her.

“You know, sometimes people assume you can’t be smart when you’re as pretty as you are,” I offered.

Oops.

If looks could kill. The scowl she sent me reverberated through the restaurant.

Christ. Shoulda kept my mouth shut.

“Yeah, Varden, thank you. That’s super helpful,” she snapped.

“Saffi, I’m sure Varden did not mean to insult you,” Hugh said. “As much as we’d like to believe otherwise, people come with all kinds of preconceived notions and prejudices.”

She put her hand on her dad’s arm. “I know. Let’s change the subject.” She threw me serious stink eye.

I’ll be damned.

She was a smart kid and knew better than to get into it with one of her father’s clients. After all, we were the folks who paid for her college tuition and her dad’s trips to the south of France every summer.

Saffi gathered her wrap and purse. “Dad, I hate to eat and run. But I gotta get going. Thank you for dinner.” She bent to kiss his cheek. “Nice meeting you, Varden,” she said with an extended hand.

Her grip was firm but warm.

Hugh stood to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Be careful out there, baby. It’s a wild city.”

“I know, Dad. I’m always careful. Love you.”

I discreetly watched her small, round ass bounce out of the restaurant. It’d be nice to get to know her better, but that might not be the smartest idea. Even though my twitching cock said otherwise.

“What a great girl. You must be really happy with her,” I told Hugh.

“Definitely. Her mom passed when she was only a kid. It’s been just the two of us since then. I’d say she turned out all right.” His smile said it all.

“Hugh, you see those two ladies at the bar? I think they wouldn’t mind having a drink or two with us. Whaddya think?”

Hugh glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. I have to do some work for a client meeting first thing tomorrow. Can I get a rain check?” He stood.

I stood, too, grasping his hand. “Absolutely. We’ll do it soon.”

With Hugh gone, I headed to the bar to make some new friends.

“Ladies. What can I get you to drink?”

My phone rang on the drive home.

“Hello?”

“Is this Mr. Varden Gallagher?”

“Yes, it is. Who’s this?”

“The San Francisco Police Department. Your brother, Beaumont, asked us to call you.”

Shit. What was he up to now?

“Mr. Gallagher, your brother’s been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct.”

“Is he