Yes, Sir.

Chapter 26: Tired

CHAPTER 26

We do not go to dinner with other associates.

I'm still confused, even though we've been sitting at the fancy restaurant for over an hour now, just the two of us. Harry insisted that I order dessert so here I am, eating a massive slice of chocolate cake.

I take one more bite of the delectable treat and then sigh and push it over to Harry. "I'm sorry, you'll have to eat the rest."

He lifts the fork I was just using to eat the cake and takes a bite, not caring that my germs were probably all over it. I giggle at him. "I think you're trying to make me fat."

"Nonsense," he says. "You have room for a couple extra pounds."

I take another sip of my champagne and study him closely while he takes another bite. Our waiter is a really nice Italian guy who keeps refilling my glass, even though he probably shouldn't because I'm starting to feel the effects of it. I think he also tried to look down the top of my dress, but I can't really blame him.

The dress I'm wearing tonight isn't strapless this time but has little sleeves and a tight form-fighting shape. And, of course, another built-in push-up bra. Thankfully Harry hasn't said anything about my dress yet, but I'm just waiting for him to make a comment.

"No, I don't," I sigh, swirling the amber liquid in my cup around, watching it sparkle as the light hit it at different angles. "Plus, Liam would kill me."

Harry sets down the fork. "Liam?"

I take in his frown and stiff composure and realize that I probably shouldn't have started talking about Liam in a situation like this. Alcohol seems to cloud my judgment a little bit. I sigh.

"You know, he's my personal trainer and everything," I attempt to explain. "He gets mad when I eat a lot of junk food."

"Does he?" Harry's tone sounds amused rather than angry, so I let out a little breath and nod eagerly.

"Yeah, he does."

Harry eyes flicker to the side, just for a second, but I catch the motion and follow his gaze. Two men are sitting together, and they look to be whispering to each other. One of them looks up and stares straight at me, but when he sees I'm looking back at him he flushes a dark red, nudges the other man, and they both glance away.

When I look back to Harry, his face is twisted into an ugly scowl. "Come on, let's go," he says suddenly, standing up and throwing some bills onto the table.

"Don't you want to finish your coffee?" I ask, looking at his half-empty cup.

"No," he nearly shouts, then thrusts a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm just- can we go?"

"Yeah, I guess," I reply, bewildered, and grab my purse. Harry takes my hand and nearly drags me to the elevator. I have no idea what's running through his head but the only thing I can think about is how warm his hand is on mine.

Once the elevator doors close, Harry lets go of my hand and I give him a suspicious look. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?"

"I'm not an idiot, Harry," I cross my arms and raise my eyebrow at him, waiting patiently for an explanation for our sudden departure.

He sighs. "Those men were looking at you."

"Are you telling me that we left the restaurant because two guys were looking at me?"

"They were whispering too," Harry grumbles.