that the name you were born with?"
"It is," she said with a nod.
"I wish I could believe even that, but already we have a history together, don't we? I ask you questions and you tell me lies."
"Well, that's kinda your fault though, am I right?" She shrugged and picked up the cocktail Petra had set before her and drained it in one long gulp before swiping the back of her hand over her mouth. "If you minded your own beeswax instead of sticking your nose into my affairs, I wouldn't have had to lie to you." She let her gaze drift pointedly below his waist. "Or knee you in the junk.”
Maybe it was stupid, but there was no point in pulling punches now. Whatever was going to happen was already in motion. She was just along for the ride now.
She had to give him some credit, though, because even then, he didn't get mad. In fact, his lips quirked in a half-smile and he raised his glass in her direction before following her lead and swallowing it down. He set the glass back on the bar with a chink and motioned for Petra to give them a refill. Sadie considered refusing and then stopped herself. She was about to be on the receiving end of a prison sentence, blackmail, or an indecent proposal, and any of those scenarios would be easier to cope with if she was drunk.
“I believe you this time. Because that little pulse in your neck?” He leaned in and touched one fingertip to a spot on her throat. “It goes wild when you’re lying.”
She could feel it ramping up already beneath his fingers, but it had nothing to do with lies. Her breath caught and it was all she could do not to jerk away as his eyes went dark with something far more terrifying than anger.
He held her gaze for a long moment and then sat back and shrugged. "See? That’s helpful information, right? I’m willing to let bygones be bygones in order to achieve my goal and help you achieve yours. Our past interactions aren't really working for either one of us. Would you agree?"
She nodded and eyed him speculatively. She’d been grifting long enough to see an offer coming and she could hardly contain her curiosity.
"I would agree. So let's change the tide. What’s your game here, Mr. Callahan?"
His gaze traveled over her hair and her face, lingering on her lips, which had her fighting not to moisten them in response.
"Fine. I'll show you mine," he murmured, leaning in to finger a lock of hair that had fallen over her eye, and tucking it behind her ear. "But then, I want you to show me yours."
The innuendo wasn't lost on her and she was still trying to squash the vision of the two of them tangled in a set of satin sheets when her co-worker dropped off another round.
He held up his glass and clinked it to hers. " Slainte ."
She mimicked his toast, and knocked it back.
“Quid pro quo.” He set his glass down, pinning her in place with his intense gaze. “I'm sure I don’t have to tell you that, if this game doesn't go the way I want it to this time, we're not going to be able to play together anymore and you're going to find yourself in the back of a black and white car, yeah?"
She nodded and pursed her lips. "Shoot."
"My name is Jake Callahan, but that wasn't always my name. I used to be called Jake Reilly. When my father died, I changed my name to match my mother's. Now you."
She snatched up the fresh cocktail that was just set in front of her, but this time took a slow sip, letting it roll around her tongue and slide down her throat in a warm rush.
Liquid courage, they said. She hoped “they” were right.
"My name is actually Sadie Leighton,” she murmured, keeping her voice low enough so as not to carry. “I'm not a Countess but I am a waitress…sometimes. And a damned good one, at that."
“All things I knew before or found out an hour ago with a simple call to a very good private investigator on my payroll.” He raised a brow and wiggled his fingers in a "keep going" motion.
"My parents are both dead."
"Mine too. May they rest in