Page 31 of Half Truths (Secret Society 1)
“Trust me, I never thought it was.” He smiled.
“So, where are we going?”
“This way.” He nodded as he started walking. I followed, grateful I’d opted for wedges and not stilettos. “I was able to score a reservation at a new restaurant that opened a couple of weeks ago.”
“I hope you didn’t go through the trouble on my account. I would’ve been fine at any pub.”
“Trust me, this is me selfishly using this outing as a reason to go. They only take reservations for two people at a time and I can’t really pick one friend over another.”
“Ah, so you’re using me. Got it.” I winked.
“Not using, just . . . ” He blushed again. “I mean, the place looks amazing and—”
“Max.” I shot him a look. He clamped his mouth shut. “I’m cool with it. Thanks for picking me up, by the way. Do you live nearby?”
“A few blocks. I can’t afford your block. I think Nolan lives in your building. Or maybe it’s the building next to yours.”
“Hm. I haven’t seen him around.”
“Some of the junior and senior players live on your block.”
“Yeah, I heard about that.” I looked over my shoulder as if they were all going to magically appear behind us. We were at a streetlight, waiting for the crosswalk signal to change, when I spotted a busy restaurant across the street.
“Is that the place?”
“Yeah. It looks nice, right?”
“It looks crowded,” I said. “But yeah, nice. I don’t think I noticed it when I walked by it before.”
“Rumor has it, Fitz’s brother owns it.”
“Patrick? That’s his only brother, right?”
“Yup.”
“Why’s it a rumor? About his brother owning the place? Either he owns it, or he doesn’t.”
“I guess he was worried about how opening this place would go over after the legal issues he had.”
“So, who do people think owns it?”
“Private investors.”
“Hm. Do you think he did what they said he did? Patrick Fitzgerald, I mean.”
“I mean, I don’t discredit anything like that. When you have the entire world in the palm of your hands, it’s difficult to say what you wouldn’t be able to get away with.”
“That’s disturbing but true.” I nodded at that. “Still, I’m surprised he’d keep his name out of this restaurant entirely.”
“I can’t imagine he’d care whether his name was on it or not.” He raised an eyebrow as he pulled the door open for me. I thanked him as I walked through. It was just as crowded in here as it was outside. “I’d venture to say it’s going pretty damn well for him.”
I took my coat off and checked it in the coatroom while Max walked up to the hostess and gave her his name. I busied myself looking around as I walked back to the front. On a table in the waiting area was a bowl of black matches with the restaurant name on it, and on the back, a tiny gold octopus with the numbers 8888. I picked one up and dropped it back down, letting it bounce off the other boxes.
“You’re too beautiful to be kept waiting.” The voice, low and near my ear, stinking of whiskey, startled me.
I jumped and turned around to face him, his scent flooding my senses, his close proximity causing me to inhale sharply. I braced myself, but it was no use. No point in denying that he affected me, whether I wanted him to or not. The icy look in his eyes made me take a step back, then another, until my back was pressed up against the wall and I was reminded of the saying between a rock and a hard place.
“That’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Glad you’re keeping track.”
“I’m really not.”
“Would you like to join me?” He grinned, one side of his mouth curling slyly.
“Are you here by yourself?”
His grin widened. He took a step back and I got a clear view of our surroundings—the three women standing behind him, all watching me curiously. They looked exotic, long dark hair that looked a lot like mine, and near-perfect bodies, as showcased by the tight, revealing clothes they wore. Under any other circumstance, I would see them at the gym or walking in the street and think nothing of them, but knowing they were here with Logan annoyed me.
I met his eyes, tilting my chin up. “I have no desire to be part of your harem.”
He was silent for a beat. “Suit yourself, if you want to live like a peasant.”
“Have fun pretending you’re royalty,” I said as he turned around. “Let me know if it makes you any less lonely.”
He didn’t face me so I couldn’t see his reaction, but I knew I’d hit a sore spot. Max approached me as I watched Logan and his women walk to their table—right up front by the entrance, where everyone would surely see him.
