Page 83 of Shifters Unifying
Rick brightened. “That’s good.”
“You know how it goes. It looks like shit until the finishers come through.”
“True, true.” His stomach growled. “Do you know a good place around here to eat? I’d like to take you to lunch. My treat.”
“Vixen’s is pretty good.”
“Isn’t that a bar?”
“More like a pub.”And I can check on Sheila while I’m there.
“My car or yours?”
“Olivia is waiting outside.”
“Olivia Reeves? Your project manager? That Olivia?”
I nodded.
“Good. I haven’t met her yet.” His eyes took on a calculating gleam I recognized but didn’t like. “I’ve heard good things about her,” he added. “Lots of good things.”
Dammit.He’d probably heard rumors about her lusty lifestyle from the human contractors around the job site. No way our shifters would dare disrespect their appointed leader like that—not unless they wanted to meet the business end of a pissed off beta.
I plastered another fake smile on my face. “Well, she’s the best right-hand man around, so I’m sure every word you’ve heard is true.”
When Rick had climbed into the SUV, he’d chosen to sit directly behind Olivia, and his scent had gone from calculating, mediocre businessman to snake in the grass. Conversation had been stilted since.
We pulled into the parking lot at Vixen’s. At least the lunch crowd was generally less rowdy than nights and weekends. Still,Sheila was mixing drinks behind the bar as usual. She glanced up when we strolled in and gave me a tight smile.
“What’re you having?” I asked the other two, after we’d stepped inside.
“Top-shelf Marguerita,” Rick said, dragging his gaze over Olivia as though his drink order would impress her. He definitely didn’t have lunch on his mind. He winked at her. “That would certainly hit the spot on a day like today.”
Olivia quirked an eyebrow and grabbed three menus from the hostess station. “I’ll have a Chilton.”
“Usual Vodka?” We were shifters, so alcohol didn’t impact us as hard or as long as regular humans, and we didn’t typically worry about having a drink or two with a work lunch. Particularly when we were entertaining clients.
She nodded.
Rick stepped closer to her, presuming and accepting an invitation she hadn’t given. “Do you two come here often?”
“Every chance we get,” she said, averting her face to hide the hard roll of her eyes. “His cousin owns the place.”
“Olivia, why don’t you find us a table,” I said. “I’m going to check in with Sheila and place our drink order. Be there in a minute.”
“I would like to find out more about your… work history,” Rick interjected.
“This way,” she said, gesturing toward a table on the far side of Vixen’s.
“You first,” Rick said. “After all, I am a gentleman.”
Olivia sashayed away, purposefully swinging her hips, and Rick trailed after her with his gaze blatantly glued to her bottom.
Fuck me. Assholes gonna asshole.
Unless I missed my guess, douche-bag Rick was in for a helluva smackdown before lunch was over. I hoped Olivia wouldn’t run out of patience before I made it to the table. Herrejections could be glorious, and my mood could use the pick-me-up.
I stopped at the end of the bar closest to the door, and Sheila nodded to me. “Be right with you.”
