my mouth to hide the threat of a smirk. “Let’s not be rash. This isn’t how I meant for our evening to start.”
Her eyes roll to the vaulted ceiling. She still hasn’t returned to her stool. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I ignore the barb. “Aren’t you interested in what I have to say?”
“That’s such a loaded question,” she remarks in a wry tone.
“I’d like you to be my personal real estate agent.” The title doesn’t suit this vixen before me. To be fair, I’m not sure limitations from any occupation could corral her fire. She’s meant to blaze trails far and wide—and get filthy rich doing it.
Vannah shows no sign of surprise at my proposal. Or interest, for that matter. “Diving into business before we’re even brought to a table? I’m not sure how cheap your dinner dates usually are, but this wham-bam situation isn’t going to end well for you where I’m concerned.”
Her entitled attitude isn’t helping me ditch the mirth attempting to make an appearance. I stamp out the warmth spreading through me by enlisting my signature stony expression. “Then we should remedy that. Do you know how this restaurant got its name?”
She quirks a brow while polishing off her cocktail. Perfect timing. “Do you?”
“There’s a rooftop patio that’s supposed to offer a great sunset view.”
“How romantic.” Her tone suggests the scene might be similar to a waste facility.
“Good thing that’s not my intention. Perhaps the sight will get you in a more agreeable mood, though.”
“For what?” Her teeth clack together with the sharp question.
That incessant need to question me chips at my patience. “My proposal, unless you’re reconsidering the sex portion.”
Vannah huffs hard enough to make her lips flap. “It doesn’t matter where we sit. I’ll still be a tough nut to crack.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” I lift my chin to a hostess hovering nearby and point toward the ceiling.
She nods, scurrying over to lead the way. The elevator ride is so silent a queef would resemble an explosion. Vannah gives no signal of discomfort from the cloying tension that’s practically fogging the steel walls. I almost exhale in relief when the doors glide open, greeting us with sticky warmth that’s still clinging to the night air. The outdoor layout is more relaxed and casual. Several vibrant couches frame one side while plush armchairs clumped in intimate proximity are arranged along another.
The girl leading us peeks over her shoulder, hesitating between the two seating options. Whatever visible fury she notices crackling off Vannah in an attack against me has her directing us away from the couches. Wise choice, unfortunately.
“Well, this is cozy.” Vannah’s tone makes that observation sound like an accusation.
“Certainly is.” I settle in a swayback seat as she folds herself into the one across me. Her elegance wafts along the open space, even above the mouthwatering scent of grilled meat. A server swoops in to get our beverage order, concise and direct, then darts off to give us privacy.
I smooth a palm down my dress shirt—sans tie. Vannah’s gaze tracks my movement. The image of her ripping at the buttons gets a twitch from my cock. Heat aims south at an alarming rate. This woman is too tempting. The way she’s studying me while slowly crossing her legs alerts me to her suspicion.
A cough removes the lust from tightening my throat. “Do you ever regret getting into real estate?”
She glances to the side, narrowing her eyes on some unsuspecting point. “No, much to my father’s dismay.”
The similarity isn’t lost on me. I recognize the bitterness in her tone as my own. “There’s a story there.”
“We aren’t here to discuss my family.” Her voice is frosty enough to give me a chill, regardless of the warm temperature.
I wave away her deflection. “It’s you who slammed the brakes on us ramming straight into business. A slight detour can be accounted for.”
She crosses her arms, but relents. “My dad is a lawyer and built his own firm from the ground up. His grand plan includes my brother and me joining the family legacy.”
Those final words are spat from her mouth with a hostility I can relate to.
“We have that in common, I suppose. My father never forgave me for abandoning his company to forge my own path.”
A furrow dents the smooth skin between her brows. “Is he—?”
“Dead,” I finish for her.
Her mouth opens, but closes an instant later. She’s probably recalling my reprimand after apologizing for trying to use my Nana against me.
I save her from floundering to