“Hm,” she hums. “Close to forty is more like it.”
Another deep, throaty laugh. “You’re not wrong, I’m thirty.”
“Oof, I knew you were giving hot daddy.”
I choke on my soup. “Hina!” Outrageous laughter booms through the room. “Someone needs to put a filter on your mouth.”
“Or maybe he,” she points at Rhys with her spoon. “Can undo the filter on my mouth, what do you say daddy man?”
Despite her joke, Rhys isn’t bothered, and he also doesn’t reply. Not to her nor Katarina. “I’m a Detective Sergeant, working at theCalgary Police Service in Alberta, Canada.”
He got a promotion. Last year, he was a police officer.
“Old, sexy, and a detective?” Hina chuckles, “This is how most pornos start.”
“What’s a Detective Sergeant?” I take another gulp of water.
Rhys scratches his goatee. “Sometimes I’ll go over closed cases.” His eyes dart to Dean. I can’t decipher his expression. “And sometimes we’re handed cases from the boss.”
“You’re giving major Christian Grey vibes,” Hina adds more.
This girl…I hide my smile behind a palm.
“I’m not a billionaire, though.” Rhys’ brows furrow together. Poor, innocent man.
“But you definitely have a red room with chains and things.” She wiggles her brows, “Can I volunteer as tribute?”
Rhys shakes his head, pouring himself a glass of water. “The only chains I have are handcuffs and no,” he answers. “I like to pick who I want myself.”
She thrashes a hand over her heart in fake agony. “You wound me, kind sir. But a dominant man is a prominent prospect in my book.”
Katarina chokes. “And what’s that? The book of whores?”
He lifts his glass of water out and theycheers.
The table goes silent.
Hina’s chin juts out. “You would know.”
“Okay,” I call out lightly. “Let’s take a breath, yeah?”
Both girls look at me and I instantly regret opening my mouth. Fire breathing dragons. But damn me if I’m not curious to find out what happened between them.
“What about you, Nova?” Shaan clears his throat.
I ignore the drop in my stomach. “I’m twenty-four,” I put my spoon down and rub my palms over my thighs under the table. “And Iwork as a literary editor at Berkenlin Publishing in Toronto.”
The lie is smooth and tastes like pre-processed chocolate. It turns bitter when I notice Dean’s scowl deepen from my peripheral vision.
Don’t tell them. Please.
I wait for him to say it, to spoil my lie with the truth, but he doesn’t.
“Editor?” Shaan nods carefully like he’s wondering what that brings to the table for him. “That’s a prestigious job. You were good in school.”
I nod like OSAP didn’t put me on academic probation my final year.
“That’s…wow,” Hina shakes her head. “You’re the equivalent of a Harvard student to me right now.”
