Every instinct I’ve ever used in business is cranking into gear. Maybe it’s the tropical sun, the hot s*x and desire overwhelming my senses before, but that’s in the background right now. I’m crunching facts, rumour and risk like a f*****g supercomputer.
I know him. And it’s not just from a voicemail. Sol might be smirking but I’m nowhere near finding this funny. There’s a danger the whiskey glass is going to shatter in my hand if I don’t get control of my own curiosity.
Cora is the first one to look away from their deadlocked stare. She turns to me, her hazel eyes silently pleading. I nudge Sol, pass my whiskey glass to him and guide Cora to a quieter area. Our assigned table is empty, so I find our tacky little sequinned-covered placecards.
Pulling out a chair for her, we have the pr
