Miguel was slipping into his coat, ready to leave the office with Ash, when his phone buzzed again. He glanced down at the screen—Bridget.
He sighed.
Ash looked at him from the corner of her eye. “That her again?”
Miguel nodded and picked up. “Yeah.”
He answered the call, his tone clipped. “Bridget.”
“I’ll be waiting at Cherry’s restaurant,” she said smoothly, skipping past pleasantries.
Miguel blinked. “Cherry’s? That’s... quite the venue for a conversation about Martin West.”
There was a soft laugh on the other end. “Well, since you won’t take me out on a normal day, I figured I’d improvise. Besides, good wine makes good confessions.”
Miguel shook his head slightly, his mouth twitching in reluctant amusement. “This isn’t a date, Bridget.”
“You keep saying that,” she replied, her
