Chapter Twelve
Steph
“Bad feelings make a terrible meal, wouldn't you agree? They sit so heavy in the stomach.”
I jumped and whipped my head around to face the man sitting in my date's chair.
Broad shouldered and pale as a glass of milk in an equally pale suit, he had gelled black hair combed back and deep shadows under protruding cheekbones.
The evil glint in his glowing golden eyes would have been comical if it wasn't equal parts scary and oddly sexy. He was clearly one of them.
He took a long draw off a thin cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a ring, yet there was no smell. Even the smoke vanished as soon as it came out, zero trace left.
I swallowed.
Why couldn't I come up with a single thing to say to that? I mean, it was true. I hated how she made me feel, always so small and
