Page 21 of Blood Money

He chuckles, and it’s a magical sound. “Bernard. You can call me B if you’d like.”

The waiter breaks my stare from B as he sets our drinks down. I wrap my hand around the frosted wineglass, then bring it to my lips for a sip before replying. “Okay. B it is. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an investor of sorts. I put my money in businesses I know will do well and wait.” He takes a sip of his own drink.

“Oh yeah? Anywhere in Bexley?” At this point, I’m only trying to make conversation. I’m not really interested in what he does, but I figured it would be rude to demand my compensation up front or ask what he’s looking for.

“A few places. Most that aren’t even up and running yet.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

He smiles with a laugh. “Come on, Spitfire. You and I both know that isn’t interesting. Why don’t you ask me something you really want to know?”

I raise my brows and lean forward, propping my elbows onto the table, then placing my chin on top of my hands. “I can appreciate a man that’s straight to the point.”

He shrugs. “I try to be.”

“Well, why did you reach out to me? What is it you’re looking for?” I study his face as he goes silent for a beat.

“Honestly? I lost my wife a few years ago, and I’ve been lonely. Not in the, um, sex department, but in the companionship department. I just want someone to talk to. Someone to connect with.”

Huh. With a name like RetributionRebel, I was expecting something more… exciting, but I can’t complain. “And that’s something you’re willing to pay for?”

He nods. “I have money, so why not use it to sit with a beautiful woman and have a few drinks?”

I shrug with a grin. “I guess it’s your money, so you can spend it how you’d like. I was just…” I trail off, trying to think of a way to explain my thoughts.

“Expecting more? Expecting an old man like me to want to fuck you?”

I almost choke on the sip of my drink I’m taking. “I mean, yeah. My profile says that’s all I’m looking for.”

He lets out a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to fuck you and touch every inch of your tight little body, but for me, I need more of a connection for sex.”

I smile and look down, trying to hide the new blush creeping up my neck. “I guess I can understand that.” Lie. I don’t get it one bit, but I’ll tell him all the things he wants to hear.

“Perfect. Tell me about yourself, then.”

I start off with my age. I feel that’s kind of important. He needs to know I’m an adult, but maybe not as adult as he was thinking. Then I go into how I grew up here in Bexley and graduated, all the small-talk bullshit you tell everyone when you have nothing else to talk about.

After I spill everything I can, he starts by telling me all about him. How he got into investments, where he went to college, his hobbies. And before I know it, hours have passed, and I think I’m actually enjoying myself. This man is giving me the one thing Stallion wouldn’t—his story, which distracts from my own.

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