Hiding Sparrows

29. Throw them curveballs

The rest of the lunch was relatively bland and uneventful. From a people perspective, that is — the food was fucking amazing. But, Whittle, though irritating, made no inappropriate moves against me beyond a few sly glances below eye level, and refused to talk to Ty about anything beyond precursory business matters.

I could tell by the time the waiters took away our finished plates, he was over it. But, ever the charming host, he appeared gracious and cheery to Whittle, who seemed in good spirits. Ty put down his card to foot the bill, and our 'guest' joked, "Next time it's on me! Although, maybe the next time could be at one of those food trucks I mentioned. And, of course, your lovely colleague is welcome to join."

I wasn't entirely convinced he actually knew my name, despite it coming up in conversation more than once. I just gave him a polite and vaguely seductive smile. Ty chuckled, and when the waiter returned with Ty's card, together the three of us collected ourselves, and left the private room. I cast one final glance to the velveteen couch on the way out and felt my cheeks warm.

Ty led the way back through the rabbits warren of a venue, before we came to the exit.

"Thank you for the meal, Sergei," Ty said to the staff member as we left. The boy just nodded his head, watching as whittle walked past, ignoring him completely. I gave him an apologetic smile then followed the rich dick billionaire outside, while Ty continued speaking to Sergei.

He paused on the steps, seeing me follow him out.

"Well, it was a pleasure having lunch with you, darling," he said, with a shit eating grin on his face. "I'd love to do it again sometime, without the preface of a business meeting?"

God, gag. But I wasn't about to let up the act right now. However, I also wasn't about to let this creep actually continue down this train of thought.

"That sounds like a lovely offer," I said politely, smiling. "While I'm tempted, I do need to be careful about who I spend company with, especially not directly related to Mr Rhodes business' affairs. We need to be careful about competition, of course."

The implication, I hoped, would be enough to get my point across. And help the deal Ty was trying to secure. Whatever it was.

I watched as the gears turned in Whittles' head, before he gave an understanding smile. "Of course. Well, in that case, I hope to see you soon."

And while the statement wasn't a sure thing, it felt like a win.

He pulled some keys from his pocket, just as Ty stepped outside.

"Well, this has been lovely, but I do have to jet, unfortunately. People to see, places to be. I'll be in touch soon regarding that proposal, Tyson." He gave a mock salute, which was odd and socially awkward, then galloped down the steps. He then walked to the side, to the garage where his car was likely parked. We watched him go, standing on the stairs in silence until a white Tesla streaked out of the garage and down the road.

"What a dick," Ty muttered.

I burst out laughing. Ty seemed shocked, but his face broke into a smile.

"Alright, alright," he said, pointing down the stairs, not to the road, but to the pathway winding beside it. "Let's take a walk. Azael is picking us up down at the beach."

A part of my wanted to protest. I had excuses I could pull out. My footwear, for one. But then, the thought of walking down the boulevard, winding down the cliff side and to the beach with Ty... that sounded rather appealing.

So, I grabbed Ty's arm, and used him to steady myself, then pulled off each of my heels. Holding the straps in one hand, I nodded.

"Okay, ready now."