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“As I said, it’s not for sale. With an election year coming up, I can use economic growth as the perfect platform.”
“Even if you don’t have a moral one to stand on?”
“This is politics, Crawford. No one cares about morals.”
“That’s not politics. That’s you.”
His face reddened and he pursed his lips. He probably wanted to tell me to fuck off, but he wisely kept his lips pressed tightly together.
For a second, the thought of threatening to share those photos with the press crossed my mind. But that would be extortion, blackmail at best. And I would not break the law, not even if it would bring down this lying, cheating bastard. I wasn’t the type to extort, but I wasn’t one to give up easily, either. I would find another way.
“Crawford Corporation will buy that land. One way or another.”
He trained those black eyes on me. “Is that a threat?”
“No. A promise.”
“Don’t make any promises you cannot keep, Ryan.”
“I don’t.”
Despite my cool demeanor, his words annoyed me. I really hated to lose, especially to scum like him. But this meeting was just my first move. I hadn’t given up yet.
I leaned back in my chair and downed the rest of my drink.
My lips curved into a grin, and the mayor narrowed his eyes at me. But I didn’t smile at that moment because of the mayor’s discomfort.
No. The smile was all for her.
The spotlight from the bar shone on her light brown hair, reflecting the thin blonde highlights that framed her heart-shaped face. She grabbed a tray and made her way to our table. She wore tight leather pants tonight and a thin black shirt. She had left the top three buttons undone and the shirt gaped open to reveal a bit of cleavage. I’d seen dancers show more and affect me less than those four inches of bare skin at her collar. She swept her hair to the side when she approached our table and our eyes locked. Her eyes rounded for a second when she recognized me and she composed herself quickly, but I knew our brief encounter had also affected her the other night.
Interesting.
“What can I get you, gentlemen?”
“I was just leaving,” said the mayor, buttoning his jacket.
I saluted his retreating form with my empty glass and turned to the pretty bartender. “I’ll have another scotch.”
She nodded but before she could leave, I added, “And your name.”
She pushed back her shoulders. “Have you ever considered asking for things instead of just demanding them? You might find that works better.”
She turned around to head back to the bar, but I stopped her.
“I’ve considered it. But I find it unnecessary. At least for me.” I answered. She didn’t turn back but shook her head all the way to the bar. I watched her as she poured a bottle of the blue label and nodded at another bartender. A few minutes later, she was back with my drink.
“Here you are,” she said, placing the glass on the table.
“Thank you. Now, how about that name?” I grinned. “I asked nicely this time.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Was that even a question or more of a follow-up to your demand?”
I couldn’t help it. My lips tugged and my smile grew. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me.” She bent forward to pick up my empty glass from earlier, and her shirt fell forward, revealing a black push-up bra and the top of her breasts. My throat tightened and I swallowed. This woman definitely affected me.
“Why can’t you tell me your name?” I asked, genuinely interested in her response.
