Not good. He'd stayed away from Jasmine for so long. Had resisted the urge to text her in the hopes that her memory would fade. Even while he monitored her every text message. Including the ones that had let him know that she would be spending Valentine’s Day here with a tech billionaire’s personal bodyguard.
It felt like both a relief and a personal failure to find himself sitting at the same table as her tonight.
“How do you two know each other?”
Han didn’t realize he was staring at Jasmine until he had to tear his eyes away from her to answer Faizan’s question.
Her real date’s tone had been polite enough, but he regarded Han with hard, suspicious eyes.
Han paused dramatically and glanced at Jasmine. She needed to learn to disguise her feelings better. He could tell she was in a panic about how he might answer, and someone with Faizan’s background probably could, too.
“I’m one of her surfing students,” he answered Faizan while looking at Jasmine. “We have an exclusive two-year contract.”
“Two years…that’s quite the commitment,” Faizan said. “You must be progressing quite well, then. Jazz is an exceptional teacher.”
Green-edged anger erupted inside of Han at the fondness in his voice, the way he called her by that silly nickname. But he kept his voice neutral as he answered, “Yes, I’ve found Jasmine has a great many talents. There are so many things she’s excellent at—”
Han could have kept the innuendo going, but Faizan’s polite expression frosted over, and Jasmine abruptly stood up from the table.
“I need to go to the restroom. Could you order me dessert? Vanilla ice cream sounds great.”
It was all Han could do not to roll his eyes. Of course, she would choose vanilla ice cream on a date such as this.
An approving smile replaced Faizan’s suspicious look. “Great minds think alike.”
Her lips lifted briefly at his trite idiom, but then she all but dashed off to the restroom.
The doe was on the run, probably with the idea of putting some space between them and using the restroom as a reprieve. That might have worked with someone else or her considerate date. But his decade-plus in co-running The Silent Triad had taught him to be ruthless.
He flicked his eyes over to Lana for the first time since they sat down and gave her precise instructions in Cantonese.
JAZZ
I stayed in the bathroom stall as long as I could, but eventually, my dad’s voice showed up in my head, telling me not to be a coward and that I had to go back out there. Even though this was a nightmare that it wouldn’t have even occurred to me to have because who in the hell crashes someone’s Valentine date after half a year of radio silence?
My dad didn’t care. He barked at me to get off my ass and back to that nightmare disguised as dessert.
Okay, okay, you can do this, Hayes. I flushed the toilet and pushed open the stall door like a good little soldier.
Only to find that slinky date of Han’s posted up against the sink. She appeared bored like she’d been waiting a while for me to finish my freak out.
Which is why I dang near tripped over my Tom’s when she informed me, “Han wants a threesome, so you’re going to have to get rid of your date. Then you can wait for us to finish dinner in the hotel room he got upstairs for tonight.”
I jutted my chin. “Excuse me?”
She squinted, her expression becoming a little less bored and a lot more confused. “You don’t want to have sex with him again?”
“We haven’t had sex a first time—I mean, not really.” My cheeks burned with the memory of what happened in the VIP Champagne Room at Aloha Ballers. “And why would I want to end my date to have sex with him and you?”
She looked from side to side. “Because he’s Han Zhiwei. Hot and rich and nice.”
Somehow, I found myself having to explain yet again why there is nothing nice about this guy. “He’s on a date with you, and he sent you in here to proposition me—while I’m on a date.”
She shrugged and scrunched her face. “Yes, but this is Han. He’s fun. And good in bed. I haven’t seen him in a while—like, since last August. But believe me, I was more than willing to cancel any plans I had when he called and asked me to come here with him tonight.”
“So you slept with him. He ghosted you, and you were happy when he texted you out of the blue?”
“No…” she answered.
Oh great, faith in my fellow woman restored. I didn’t think anyone as dazzling as her would have so little pride.
“I didn’t sleep with him. He doesn’t let girls spend the night—that’s his policy,” she clarified, stabbing me through with disappointment. “But he makes having to take that middle of the night Uber ride home worth it. Believe me.”
