Page 81 of Slumming It

The empty shot glass was a good reminder of something that had caught my interest during the drive over. I looked to Emily and said, "You promised to tell me a story."

Her eyes clouded with confusion. "I did?"

"In the car, you were saying that the owner's daughter hated you. I'm guessing that was Morgan." I hadn't phrased it as a question because no guessing had been needed. I'd known the names of the owners before coming in, but I was looking to get Emily talking, and this seemed like a decent place to start.

Emily nodded. "Yup, that's her. And now you know what I meant. She really does hate me."

I recalled something she'd said during the drive. "From the second grade, right?"

She nodded again. "And ever since."

"You wanna tell me the reason?"

She bit her lip. "Yeah, I guess I did promise, huh? What was it I said? Over the first drink?" Her gaze strayed to the nearby countertop, where her first drink was now an empty glass. With a little laugh, she said, "Maybe I should've savored it then, huh?"

"You want something else?" I asked. "A Coke? Water?" I winked. "A glass of champagne?"

This made her laugh, and she sounded more relaxed as if the alcohol was doing its job. "Maybe I'll just sip on that second shot of vodka, if that's alright with you."

"You don't need my permission," I reminded her. "You're off the clock, remember?"

"But why?" she asked. "Earlier, you mentioned wanting to check out the nightlife." She glanced around. "Was this the only place you wanted to see?"

It was. But now I was curious. "Why do you ask?"

"Because if I'm done – off the clock, as you said – I sort of feel like you're not getting your money's worth." But then, she stiffened. "Oh wait…"

I didn't get the sudden shift. "What?"

She winced. The wince was small and might've gone unnoticed under less careful scrutiny. In a quiet voice, she said, "You apologized."

The wince bothered me, and I wasn't sure what she was getting at, so I said nothing and waited for her to explain. It was a good negotiating technique – and one of my best. Silence didn't faze me like it seemed to faze others, and I used this quirk to my full advantage, especially in business.

As the silence stretched out, Emily looked toward the upper level, where we had been seated until I'd left her alone, presumably to get us some vodka.Was she recalling that I'd returned with no drinks?

If she'd noticed, she'd given no sign.

Finally, she continued, looking slightly uneasy. "In the booth…when I mentioned how you left me stranded yesterday, you said you were sorry."

I wasn't enjoying the reminder. "Yeah, so?"

"So you paid me all that money so you wouldn'thaveto apologize, but then you apologized anyway, so I guess I'm wondering…" She glanced down toward the front pocket of her jeans, where I'd seen her stashing the cash. "Like…maybe you want the money back?"

Now that was fucking funny. "Why?" I laughed.

But Emily wasn't laughing. "I just told you why." Again, she lowered her voice. "You paid me two-thousand dollars for a single apology, but then you gave me the sorry anyway, so I guess I'm asking…" She looked slightly pained as she continued in a rush. "…if you want a refund."

I was amused as hell and oddly curious. "If I did, would you give me one?"

This made her hesitate. "I can guess what you're thinking."

Doubtful.I was thinking that her expressive, green eyes were the kind of eyes a guy could get lost in – and not only for the night. But there was no way I would be telling herthat, much less acting on it, so instead I replied, "Alright. Tell me your guess."

"You're thinking that I would be a total sucker to return it, but a scammer if I don't."

I didn't believe in no-win scenarios, especially in this case. More to the point, I didn't think Emily was a suckerora scammer. But once again, I was curious. "So which is worse?"

"Honestly, I don't know. If I return it, I'll probably feel like I was tricked. And if I don't, I'll feel like I'm cheating."