Taking another large gulp of her drink, Bristol shrugged when no one else at the table spoke, just stared at her, their mouths hanging open in surprise.
They didn’t even try to sing along, what’s up with that? Oh, well, not my problem. Letting the alcohol take the edge off this dumpster-fire of a day feels better than I imagined it could. Damn, being able to speak my mind is damned liberating. Sort of like those women back in the sixties burning their bras… not like anyone would notice if I burned mine, but… Wait, where was I going with this?
Her mind had been spinning, and the only thing he’d been able to piece together had him battling laughter. It was time to reel her back in a bit.
“I noticed you didn’t have much in your kitchen, Beautiful.” What little she had was now in the apartment complex dumpster. He hadn’t felt bad about throwing away the broken dishes since nothing seemed to be of any particular significance.
“I never really learned to cook. During college, I wasn’t allowed to cook in my dorm room.” Taking a big drink of her margarita, she looked at the baked potato and sighed. “I supposed I could eat another one.” When Cat snickered, obviously understanding Bristol’s reluctance. “I had a small microwave in my room. I wasn’t allowed to make popcorn after the fire. Turns out, you actually need to pay attention to microwave popcorn, or the bag catches on fire, and the stench is nasty. Who knew? I ate so many baked potatoes, I swore I’d never be able to choke down another one.”
“Oh, we’re going to get along great, sister. Cooking is not in my skill set, either. Hell, now that I think about it, none of the women in my circle of friends cook. I have to give my mom credit, she had a lot more luck teaching the boys to cook than she did with her daughters.” Israel heard the longing in Cat’s voice. They all missed their parents as much today as they did when they first lost them. The pain wasn’t as acute now, but the dull ache was always lurking just below the surface.
Israel had recently learned a couple of members of a neighboring pack were overheard discussing how they’d taken out the head of Adler Oil and his witchy wife once and would do it again—for a price. So far, the information was little more than a rumor. Two drunks bragging in a bar wasn’t credible evidence, but it wasn’t something he planned to ignore.
Bristol turned to him so quickly, her blonde hair fanned out around her, and in his mind’s eye, he saw it spread over his bare thighs as she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. Hell, the rush made him dizzy.
“It’s cool that your mom taught you to cook.” A look of panic flashed in her eyes before she started frantically digging in her small purse. “Shit. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t be drinking? I better call someone about… something. What time is it? I know I have to be late for something. I’m always late.”
She was spiraling, winding herself up so tight, energy was pouring from her. Putting his hand on her forearm to still her frantic digging, Israel was shocked by the fear he felt from her. She was terrified she was letting her patients down and even more worried about being impaired.
“Bristol, listen to me. We talked about this earlier. Your shift is being covered. Parker called the hospital, and they shared our concerns about your safety, especially after we discovered one of the alarms at your clinic was triggered last night.” She gasped, spinning to look at Bronx, her eyes narrowing.
“No, sweetness, I didn’t know anything about it until just now. I know my brother—I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts, he wanted to make sure you ate something before he shared information, he knew would upset you.” She didn’t respond for so long, Israel was beginning to worry she was slipping through his fingers.
“This has been the strangest day.” Bristol leaned back and sighed. Her expression was more resigned than worried, and Israel could feel the sadness he’d known was coming. She drained the last of her margarita and shook her head. “I should have gotten the security system with cameras, but I didn’t have the money at the time. We haven’t had any trouble, so I’ve never upgraded it. I’ll call someone tomorrow.”
Catalina and Bronx both burst out laughing, no doubt their amusement being fed by the stricken look on Israel’s face.
“Damn, I’d have paid good money to have that on video. You’ve just achieved hero status with the Adler sisters, Bristol. Now, in the interest of saving your ass some serious time over Israel’s lap, you might want to speak with him about your security needs rather than calling another firm.”
Catalina’s coaching gave Israel time to pull back his frustration. The truth was, they’d only met a couple of days earlier, so it wasn’t a huge surprise she’d forgotten what he did for a living. Not to mention she’d had a damned stressful day, topped off with an impressive amount of alcohol.
“I didn’t forget you have a security company, but it would be presumptuous—see, I do know how to say that word—for me to assume you want to provide services.” She must have sensed the sudden chill in the air because her expression became wary as she cut herself off. “Not those services, good heavens, I’d never…” Her face went scarlet, and her eyes dilated as the magnitude of her error worked its way to the surface of her alcohol-infused mind. Bristol’s thoughts were spinning so frantically, she hadn’t noticed the couple who’d walked in and were standing beside their table.
“Oh, dear. I recognize that look. A sub who’s had too much alcohol and just stepped off a bridge into shit up to their eyeballs.” As usual, Asia Adler had summed things up perfectly. Her knack for cutting to the bottom line was just one of the reasons her reputation as Adler Oil’s legal eagle was well earned. Bristol’s gaze jerked to Franklin Cordesi, before turning to Asia. “Girl, you are too impaired to be pulling a tiger’s tail. Let me give you a bit of free legal advice. Stop talking. Don’t apologize because he isn’t going to buy it.”
Bristol stared up at Asia, who was standing beside their table. Blinking slowly once, then again, trying to bring the second oldest Adler into focus, Bristol wondered how long they’d been standing there.
Asia switched her attention to Israel, her eyes narrowing enough to let him know she wasn’t pleased. The two of them had always been close. Asia was one of the few people whose opinion of him mattered—usually, he let criticism roll off like water on a duck’s back.
Rein in your temper, Israel. She’s new. It doesn’t matter she’s been a member of the club for a while—she hasn’t played enough to understand one of the nuances of submitting to your Dom is asking for his help.
“Cara, you know the rules.” Franklin didn’t like his wife communicating telepathically in private—it didn’t matter she was reading Israel the riot act. Cordesi had lived all over the world, but hints of his upper-crust upbringing only made their way to the surface when he was dealing with Asia. Israel joked, coping with her required so much focus, Franklin wasn’t able to monitor his tells. His brother-in-law had simply nodded his agreement.
Bristol picked up her empty margarita glass and licked the rim to get the last drop, making everyone laugh. Israel wasn’t sure if she’d been trying to break the tension or get the waiter’s attention. He shook his head and set the glass back on the table.