Something Like Hate - Harloe Rae Page 0,32

unpredictable than you’re giving me credit for.” His smirk gives him a sexier edge that he doesn’t need, especially if I’m expected to resist. “Come on, sugar. You have to eat, right?”

“I don’t trust you.” The tugging in my gut is screaming at me to get the hell away from him.

Landon rolls his eyes. “As you’ve already mentioned. You don’t have to accept my terms this instant, Savannah. Just agree to share a meal with me this evening.”

Call me a daredevil, but I’m considering his invitation. I don’t have to decide right this minute. There will be time for an adequate risk analysis later. “All right.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“We’ll see about that.” I strut to my car, adding more swing to my hips than necessary.

But what’s the worst that can happen? The clock strikes midnight and he reverts to Angry Lannie again? I can handle it.

He walks to the only other vehicle in the vicinity, where his driver waits for him. “I’ll see you this evening, Savannah. Don’t keep me waiting.”

I wiggle my fingers at his retreating form. “Then don’t tempt me to.”

“Must you always have the last word?”

A final retort escapes just as I’m about to sit behind the wheel. “Against you? Absolutely.”

Fredric pulls over at the curb and shifts the car into park. He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “We’ve arrived, sir.”

I flick my eyes over our destination. Sunset Perch comes highly recommended by Jordan, reluctant as I was to ask. A crowded restaurant in downtown Minneapolis couldn’t be more predictable if I paid him for choosing this location. The brick style isn’t noteworthy in the slightest, regardless of housing an award-winning steakhouse. With a glass wall facing the street, I’m free to leer at patrons shoving food down their gullets. It appears that offering their guests privacy isn’t a priority.

The design makes no difference to me. So long as Vannah doesn’t stand me up, this place will do just fine. Her presence is required for my plan to take root. Let them watch as I swoop in.

I tuck my phone into my suit jacket. “I appreciate the ride, Jeeves.”

His stoic expression doesn’t so much as twitch. “Just doing my job, sir.”

“Don’t wait around. I’ll call when we’re done.” Giving him a timeframe is a bit hasty for my taste. Knowing what I do about the woman I’m meeting, this could take hours. Call me cocky, but I’m willing to bet that she will remain in my company until the bar closes.

Feeling out Vannah’s mood on the drive over would’ve been my preference, had she accepted my invitation for a lift. She vehemently refused to be chauffeured—her words, not mine. Her independent streak refuses to be argued with, and I find that so damn arousing. Just recalling her outright rejection gets my blood pumping south faster. That infernal woman won’t budge unless she damn well pleases, which might be her detriment at the end.

I step onto the sidewalk without providing further instructions. Fredric learned the hard way that I’m fully capable of opening my own door. I’m not so high and mighty to deem that task beneath me. To be fair, I can understand how he might have assumed otherwise.

Artificial light replaces the sun as I stride into the lobby. A host attempts to block my path, but I’m already looking past the flaying employee. The cluttered décor with too many hanging lamps and vases fades into the background where such nuances belong. We could be at a fast-food joint for all I care. My attention is solely snared by the redhead primly balancing on a tall barstool. She’s a hellcat, but I’m drawn to her with the addictive intensity that a pyro is to flames. Her graceful poise alone demands notice.

Vannah is angling sideways with her legs crossed in a subtle come-hither position. Auburn waves spill down her back in a glossy cascade. Even with her facing the opposite direction, I’m willing to guess that she’s wearing a dress meant to trip me over my own feet. The emerald color compliments both her skin tone and the mid-June humidity. She looks more appetizing than any overpriced item I’m likely to find on this menu. I’m ravenous, but it isn’t for a prime cut of beef. This woman could replace a gourmet buffet and satisfy all my needs in one serving. It’s a rare occasion I go back for seconds, but I might consider it for her. I’m not about to tell her that, though. Not

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