“Sloane,” he greeted me with that gravelly rasp.
“Hi.”
Euge turned and found himself face-to-crotch with Lucian.
“Your pants look expensive,” Euge announced to the entire restaurant.
Lucian shot me a smirk.
“Don’t you smirk at me. Apparently his mother made his profile.”
“Dude, I’m kinda in the middle of something with Rackety Ann here. We’re vibing.”
“Rackety Ann?” Lucian repeated.
“He’s talking about her chest,” the server offered helpfully.
Lucian rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth. He reached out and grabbed Euge by the collar and hauled him out of his seat.
“Don’t get blood on the tablecloth,” I warned.
“We’re just going to take a little walk,” Lucian promised. He looked at me. “Stay.”
With flaming cheeks, I watched him march Euge out the door like a puppet. The rest of the diners were riveted. I was debating texting Lina and Naomi when the woman at the table next to me leaned over.
“Girl, I don’t know what’s happening right now, but I’m a nurse and if you don’t go home with Tall, Dark, and Tight Crotch, I’m gonna check you for head trauma.”
The man next to her nodded. “I’m her husband, and even I think Suit Guy is fucking hot.”
“Noted,” I said.
A minute later, Lucian returned alone, looking moderately cheerful.
He pulled out Euge’s chair and sat.
I bit my lip. “Did you crumple him up and throw him in the gutter?”
“I arranged for my driver to take your date home in my car.”
I covered my face with my hands and groaned.
“I took the liberty of canceling the stoned gentleman’s noodles and brought you this,” the server said.
I dropped my hands to see him handing Lucian a menu and a bottle of wine.
Lucian thanked him and the man scampered off, obviously thrilled by the lack of bloodshed.
“That was the worst first date in the history of first dates,” I said.
“You’d be surprised,” Lucian said.
“Oh, please. You don’t date. You pick up a rich-guy-trophy-girlfriend takeout menu and place an order. This is different. This is humiliating and a total waste of time.”
“What did you expect?” he asked, looking amused. “Also, where can I get a copy of the rich-guy-trophy-girlfriend takeout menu?”
“Don’t be funny or nice. I don’t want your pity.”
“I’m not pitying you, Pixie. I’m enjoying your misery.”
“Well, you’re doing it too nicely. Be meaner.”
“Fine. You should have walked out the door thirty seconds after your introduction. What were you thinking?”
“I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt…and I was really hungry.”
“What a coincidence. So am I.”
“Are you seriously planning to have lunch with me right now?” I asked.
He closed the menu. “Yes. But rest assured, it’s not the company I’m interested in. It’s the chicken piccata.”
The server reappeared with two wineglasses and took Lucian’s order while he poured us each a glass.
I accepted my wine and leaned back in my chair. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but thank you for riding to my rescue…twice today.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I’m impressed. You said that without wincing.”
“I was wincing on the inside.”
Was Lucian Rollins flirting with me? Or was he just being human, and it was so far from his usual icy devil asshat routine that even the most benign polite gesture felt like it was sexually charged?
“Then you’re welcome,” he said.
I tipped my glass toward him. He raised his at me.
“Okay. Enough of this being nice to each other. It makes my skin crawl,” I said with a shudder.
Lucian chuckled and I nearly fumbled my glass. Clearly I had tumbled into an alternate reality, like Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami. Was this a new world where Lucian Rollins and I got along?
“Agreed,” he said.
“So, about Mary Louise. If I talk to her son and her story checks out, what would the next step be…hypothetically?” I asked.
“You’d need to hire an attorney with experience in cases like this. Someone who has the time to dedicate and a good rapport with both judges and juries. They’d need to build a team of associates, paralegals, and interns.”
“You’re saying I need a team of unicorns.”