I chuckle softly at her offer. “You’re not giving me a single penny.”
She glances sideways at my hand on her shoulder, then she swallows hard as she looks up at me again. “We can share the bed. As long as you keep your hands to yourself. I mean, the bed is huge. You should have no problem staying on your side, right?”
I shake my head as I lower my hand. “I really don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
She looks slightly confused and possibly a tiny bit offended now. “Are you sure?” she asks, and I definitely hear a note of disappointment in her voice. “I really don’t mind sharing the bed.”
This is a pivotal moment. How I choose to handle this predicament has the power to change everything between us.
I glance at the king-sized bed, then back at her. She’s my employee. I should insist on sleeping on the floor. It’s improper for me to waver even the slightest bit on this decision.
Yet, here I am, clearly wobbling like a poorly set jelly. I reckon that’s a proper image for what my insides feel like. The thought of sleeping in the same bed with Alice and not being able to have my way with her sounds like some form of extreme punishment.
And I’m no masochist.
“If you insist,” I reply in a somewhat dismissive tone. “I don’t want to risk you apologizing to me in the morning for making me sleep on the floor.”
She lands a hard push in the center of my chest and strides past me toward the door, leaving me in a cloud of that Alice framboise fragrance I can’t seem to get enough of. “Can we eat now?”
I savor the scent for a moment, allowing myself to imagine eating at a restaurant closer to our room. “Yes, love.”
The server who takes our order makes no attempt to disguise her appreciation of me, stealing glances at my tattoos and my face every few seconds as Alice rattles off her order. She’s a good-looking blonde in her early twenties, but I have no desire to encourage her behavior. When Alice finishes and the server doesn’t acknowledge her, I find myself incapable of hiding my annoyance.
“Did you get all that?” I ask the woman, and she smiles.
As my words click into place in her mind, she turns back to Alice. “I’m sorry,” she says. “You want the steak frites. But what was that last part?”
I respond before Alice can. “She wants the steak frites, medium-rare, with a side of melted butter,” I say, grabbing Alice’s hand to give the server the clear message that she can cease with the blatant flirting.
Alice yanks her hand out of mine. “What are you doing?”
The woman looks both confused and amused.
“That will be all,” I say to the server, flashing her a look when she opens her mouth to say something else.
The woman rolls her eyes. “Your food will be out shortly.”
When the server is out of ear-shot, Alice rounds on me. “What was that? Do I look like I need you to speak for me?”
I stare at her in confusion. “I was trying not to let that server disrespect you.”
“Disrespect me? How? By forgetting my order because she’s ogling you? Do you think I care if she wants to chomp on your steak?”
I scrunch my nose at the mental image her words have conjured up. “I rather prefer not having my meat chomped on, thank you.”
“You know what I mean,” she says, unfolding her paper napkin and placing it in her lap.
My mind is scrambling for a response to this amusingly graphic conversation when my mobile buzzes again.
Alice sneers at me as I reach into my pocket. “Don’t let me stop you from answering that,” she says, her tone almost mocking.
“It’s probably Tino,” I say before I look at the screen, establishing plausible deniability.
Of course, when I see Edward’s name, I have to resist the overwhelming urge to hurl the phone across the restaurant. This time, I reject the call and immediately shoot off a text message.
Me: Can’t talk. Ring you later.
His reply comes through within seconds.
Edward: I know you’re with her.
I stare at the message for a moment, my mind clambering for an excuse as to why I’ll have to ring him back, but my heart is hammering in my chest, making it difficult to think. “I have to take this…outside. I’ll be right back.”
Alice eyes me with suspicion as I slide out of the booth. “Take your time. We have all night, remember?”
I draw in a deep breath as I turn around and head toward the lobby. My mobile vibrates in my hand before I make it through the restaurant exit.
“What do you want?” I say, skipping any pretense of decorum.
“You’re sleeping with her,” Edward says.
It’s not a question. It’s a full-on accusation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, figuring I should at least attempt to feign ignorance.
“You know bloody well what I’m talking about. You’re sleeping with Alice.”
“I’ve done no such thing. I—”
“Bollocks! I tried your office phone—since you can’t be bothered to answer your mobile—and your front of house manager said you’re in Poughkeepsie with Alice. It’s almost 7:30! You’re spending the night with her? In Poughkeepsie!”
“I’m not sleeping with her. We’re simply…getting something to eat before we make the journey back,” I say, shaking my head as I silently hope this lie will not come back to bite me in the arse. “We came to Poughkeepsie to pick up some equipment from Henry’s Restaurant Supply. Do you know the place?”
“Yes, I know the place!” Edward barks at me, rejecting my attempt to change the subject. “That doesn’t explain why you’re still there. Hank closes the shop at six.”
“Because we got—” I stop myself before I accidentally admit we arrived here
