Page 83 of Truth or More Truth
A laugh flies out of me. “Pookie? Really?”
Melissa smiles. “No.”
The elevator doors open and I place my hand on the small of her back to guide her out into the lobby and toward the bar. “Too late. You’ll forever be my Pookie.”
My heart stutters when I realize I just said the word “forever.” I hope that doesn’t scare her off. Then again, if she were going to be scared off, that probably would’ve happened long before now.
“Welcome back, Mr. Jacobs,” the hostess greets us as we approach. “Would you like a table, or would you and your guest prefer to sit at the bar?”
“A table would be great, Brandi. As private as possible, please. And we’ll need a drink menu and dessert menu.”
Brandi nods and grabs the menus. “Follow me.”
Melissa smiles at me. “Mr. Jacobs,” she whispers with a snicker. “That’s what I’m calling you the rest of the night.”
Why do I like the thought of that so much? “You can call me whatever you want,” I murmur back as we follow Brandi to an intimate round corner booth.
Once we’re settled and have ordered our drinks and a piece of strawberry cheesecake to share, I brush Melissa’s hair off her shoulder and then let my hand rest on her neck while my thumb sweeps back and forth along her jawline.
“What are you doing, Mr. Jacobs?” Melissa asks with a flirty smile.
“It seems I can’t keep my hands off you, Pookie.” My thumb stills. “Is that OK?”
“The nickname? No. The touching? Definitely. I’m glad we’re in this round booth where we don’t have to sit across from each other.”
I press a soft kiss to her lips. “Me, too.”
“Well, isn’t this interesting?”
I close my eyes at the sound of my client’s voice—the client I left in this very bar twenty minutes ago and who I ordered to go home and not get into any more trouble. Seems he didn’t listen.
“Jimmie,” I say in a warning tone as I open my eyes and turn to face him.
The giant of a man-child rubs his hands together gleefully. “You work fast, old man.” He jerks his chin toward Melissa. “Who’s tonight’s catch?”
I’m on my feet in less than a second with Jimmie’s shirt clenched in my fist. I don’t care that he’s fifteen years my junior and almost twice my size. “Her name is Melissa, and she’s my girlfriend,” I nearly hiss out. “And you will apologize to her right now for your rudeness and disrespect.”
Jimmie’s eyes go wide, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, dude. I didn’t know.”
“Apologize to her, not me,” I order, without letting go of him.
When he flashes his trademark grin at Melissa, I growl.
“What?” he snaps. “You told me to apologize.”
“Without flirting!”
“Sorry. What’s crawled up your?—”
I tighten my hold on his shirt. “Apologize to the lady right now,” I say through clenched teeth, “or you’ll be finding yourself a new agent.”
“After all the sh—” his eyes dart to Melissa and back to me, “I meancrapI’ve pulled,thisis what’s gonna tip you over the edge?”
“You wanna try me?”
“Uh, no. Let go of me, man, and I’ll apologize.”
“Everything all right over here?” The bartender, Jorge, has left his post behind the bar and is eyeing the two of us with a look that says, “I don’t care who you are, you’ll settle down in my bar or you’re not welcome here again.”
