Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
A maître d' materializes, along with several waiters. “Welcome, Mr. Blackthroat. Window or booth?”
“My usual. Unless you’d like the window?” He touches my elbow to indicate he’s talking to me.
I hide my surprise.
Is he being…chivalrous? Charming? What is happening right now?
I take a step towards the window, careful not to lean too close in case I get vertigo. We’re at the top of the highrise, with the whole city at our feet. “I’d rather not be near a window.”
Blackthroat leads me to a separate section of the restaurant, to a private room filled with a table and deep circular booth. I scoot in and Blackthroat follows.
“Two of my usual,” Blackthroat orders. “Bring it all at once and then leave us alone.”
A waiter fills our water glasses, and the maître d' closes the frosted doors.
I’m achingly aware of Blackthroat’s massive body a few feet away from mine. Brick’s presence could fill an arena. In this cozy booth, watching him remove his suit jacket, I’m ultra aware of the heat radiating off him, his woodsy scent. The crisp dark hairs under his shirt cuffs. The strength of his fingers as he adjusts his watch.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
“Working,” he growls cryptically.
“In a restaurant?”
“It’s a working lunch.”
I try to tamp down the soaring sensation in my chest. The feeling of lifting off and flying.
Brick may have promised to keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not stopping him from taking me to a working lunch that feels awfully like a date.
Okay.
Well, I can work and be wined and dined at the same time if that’s how he wants to play this. “The finance team has a new deal to offer. Mr. Cavendish is on a plane, on his way to Benson now.”
“Good. If anyone can sweet talk them, it’s Nickel.”
I smile at the nickname and keep checking emails. I’ll keep up the pretense that this is a working lunch for as long as he requires.
Blackthroat clears his throat. I make a show of setting down my tablet and giving him my attention, my stylus poised to take notes.
His gaze settles on my chest.
Yes, I wore another cutout dress. If he’s going to call me Windows, I have to live up to my name, afterall.
“You did it again.” He looks like he wants to tear the dress off.
I shrug. “It’s not my problem that you find it distracting.”
He’s not amused. In fact, his expression turns murderous. “It is if I catch Aiden Adalwulf leering at you again.”
My pulse rate triples. I thought Blackthroat acted ultra-protective of me back there. I love it, but I can’t let him get away with it. “The only one who leers at me is you. –Sir.”
He glares, but I raise a brow right back. A gold sheen flickers over his dark brown eyes, startling me.
I can’t move, can’t speak. The air between us is too thick to breathe.
A rap on the door announces the arrival of our food.
Brick breaks our mutual stare. “Enter.”
I grab my napkin and spread it over my lap while the waiters serve plate after plate of steaming food. “Did you order the whole menu?” There’s two of everything. Two steaks, two baked potatoes, two lobsters in their shell. “How much of this do you expect me to eat?”
“At least half.”
I make a strangled noise, and in the right corner of his mouth, his lips turn up. Not much– but it’s the start of a rare smile. I’ll take it.
We eat in a semi-comfortable silence.
If anyone told me a month ago that Brick Blackthroat would take me to lunch–working or not–I would have laughed my ass off.
He barely lowers himself to interact with anyone who isn’t part of his executive team. He certainly doesn’t socialize with them.
Yet here we are. It’s incomprehensible, really. The only answer I can come up with is that he enjoys me. Not just that he’s attracted to me–I already knew that was true–but he actually can stand being around me–something I can’t say about him with anyone other than his inner circle.
The idea is exhilarating. I’ve won over the Big, Bad Boss.
When we finish eating, I bring the conversation back to the day’s events. “Aiden Adalwulf was trying to fuck with you. You didn’t let him, and he left. You won.”
Blackthroat pushes his empty plate away and his voice drops to a growl. “If he touches you again, I’ll destroy him.”
Oh, wow. That’s, um, kinda hot.
“You’re going to do that anyway.”
“Not in business.” He doesn’t elaborate, and he doesn’t seem like he’s joking. He grips the water glass so tightly it cracks.
“I’m glad you restrained yourself. It’d be tough to explain murder to the investors.” I put my napkin on the table and add as casually as I can, “Is that why you took me here? To console me?”