furtively glanced around the room, expecting the police to pounce on them any second, but everything looked the same as it had a moment ago. God, how had she gotten herself into this? Not only was he a psychopath, but a criminal as well.
“Would you like coffee, ma’am?” The waiter asked, bearing a silver coffeepot.
“No, I’m finished. Just the bill.” The waiter looked surprised that she didn’t want to linger, but then he eyed her uniform as though he found her quite uncouth.
The waiter cocked an imperious eyebrow. “As you wish.”
Ass.
“You don’t find the restaurant to your liking?” Rogar asked.
“It’s great.” She would never be able to show her face in here again, though. Not that she could afford this place.
Oh, no, they knew she worked at the zoo since she still wore her uniform. When they discovered the bills were phony, they’d come to arrest her, and she’d never get to work with the big cats.
The waiter came back with a leather folder and placed it beside Rogar. She reached across and grabbed it. Maybe she could leave them an IOU. No, that would probably get her in bigger trouble. She opened it and looked at the total. It took her a second to catch her breath. She wanted to cry.
The wine they’d had with their dinner had been three hundred dollars a bottle. The meal was one hundred and eighty. Oh, good Lord! The mousse was thirty dollars! Thirty freakin’ dollars for pudding? It didn’t matter that it was decadent and exquisite—no dessert was worth thirty dollars.
The waiter pried the leather folder from her hands and handed it back to Rogar, who casually reached into his pocket and peeled off 6, one-hundred-dollar bills. Before she could snatch the folder again, the waiter scooped it up in his hands with a wide grin and bowed before making a hasty exit.
Rogar came to his feet, then waited for her. A waiter hurried over and nudged her chair. What could she do? She came to her feet as the waiter pulled the chair out for her. Rogar handed him a twenty.
Of course they would fall all over themselves to do his bidding when he flashed money at them. She was halfway to the door when she remembered something and hurried back to the table. The staff had already started to clear it. She marched over to the silver wine bucket and grabbed what was left of the three-hundred-dollar wine, hugging the bottle close to her chest. If she was going to jail eventually, then she was damn well going to enjoy the fruits of her criminal behavior.
Her gaze dared Rogar to say something when she rejoined him. He didn’t.
The valet brought the car around. The young man lovingly caressed the side as he got out. She suddenly thrust the bottle of wine toward Rogar. “Here, I’m driving.”
He shrugged. “It makes no difference to me.”
He didn’t seem to care if she could even drive a standard. This car meant nothing to him. The high-dollar meal probably hadn’t, either. The injustice was almost too much to bear.
She scooted in on the driver’s side, and the valet closed her door. For a moment she just sat there, eyes closed as she got the feel of such an exquisite piece of machinery. Then she opened her eyes and fastened her seat belt.
“Buckle up,” she told Rogar. She was so going to show him what this baby could do.
“You can operate this vehicle?”
Now he wonders about his safety? She adjusted the seat to reach the pedals better. “Oh, yeah, I can drive it.” An old boyfriend had taught her what a real car could do, and she’d been hooked.
After pulling out into traffic, she headed toward the outskirts of the city. As soon as the traffic thinned to nothing but an occasional vehicle, she glanced toward Rogar. “Hang on.” For the first time, he looked a little nervous. He shouldn’t, she knew what she was doing.
She downshifted, then tapped the gas, that’s all it took with this baby, but she could feel the surge of power all the way up her arms. The wind blew her hair as a
“Would you like coffee, ma’am?” The waiter asked, bearing a silver coffeepot.
“No, I’m finished. Just the bill.” The waiter looked surprised that she didn’t want to linger, but then he eyed her uniform as though he found her quite uncouth.
The waiter cocked an imperious eyebrow. “As you wish.”
Ass.
“You don’t find the restaurant to your liking?” Rogar asked.
“It’s great.” She would never be able to show her face in here again, though. Not that she could afford this place.
Oh, no, they knew she worked at the zoo since she still wore her uniform. When they discovered the bills were phony, they’d come to arrest her, and she’d never get to work with the big cats.
The waiter came back with a leather folder and placed it beside Rogar. She reached across and grabbed it. Maybe she could leave them an IOU. No, that would probably get her in bigger trouble. She opened it and looked at the total. It took her a second to catch her breath. She wanted to cry.
The wine they’d had with their dinner had been three hundred dollars a bottle. The meal was one hundred and eighty. Oh, good Lord! The mousse was thirty dollars! Thirty freakin’ dollars for pudding? It didn’t matter that it was decadent and exquisite—no dessert was worth thirty dollars.
The waiter pried the leather folder from her hands and handed it back to Rogar, who casually reached into his pocket and peeled off 6, one-hundred-dollar bills. Before she could snatch the folder again, the waiter scooped it up in his hands with a wide grin and bowed before making a hasty exit.
Rogar came to his feet, then waited for her. A waiter hurried over and nudged her chair. What could she do? She came to her feet as the waiter pulled the chair out for her. Rogar handed him a twenty.
Of course they would fall all over themselves to do his bidding when he flashed money at them. She was halfway to the door when she remembered something and hurried back to the table. The staff had already started to clear it. She marched over to the silver wine bucket and grabbed what was left of the three-hundred-dollar wine, hugging the bottle close to her chest. If she was going to jail eventually, then she was damn well going to enjoy the fruits of her criminal behavior.
Her gaze dared Rogar to say something when she rejoined him. He didn’t.
The valet brought the car around. The young man lovingly caressed the side as he got out. She suddenly thrust the bottle of wine toward Rogar. “Here, I’m driving.”
He shrugged. “It makes no difference to me.”
He didn’t seem to care if she could even drive a standard. This car meant nothing to him. The high-dollar meal probably hadn’t, either. The injustice was almost too much to bear.
She scooted in on the driver’s side, and the valet closed her door. For a moment she just sat there, eyes closed as she got the feel of such an exquisite piece of machinery. Then she opened her eyes and fastened her seat belt.
“Buckle up,” she told Rogar. She was so going to show him what this baby could do.
“You can operate this vehicle?”
Now he wonders about his safety? She adjusted the seat to reach the pedals better. “Oh, yeah, I can drive it.” An old boyfriend had taught her what a real car could do, and she’d been hooked.
After pulling out into traffic, she headed toward the outskirts of the city. As soon as the traffic thinned to nothing but an occasional vehicle, she glanced toward Rogar. “Hang on.” For the first time, he looked a little nervous. He shouldn’t, she knew what she was doing.
She downshifted, then tapped the gas, that’s all it took with this baby, but she could feel the surge of power all the way up her arms. The wind blew her hair as a
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