Sara paused and considered his words. They’d already gone so far out of the way, it would be ridiculous to insist they turn back. Still, she was tempted.
“Okay.” She leaned back in the plush seat of her Lexus. “But you owe me.”
He snorted and she took it as a sign he agreed. Later she’d decide how he could pay her back.
Truth be known, it actually wasn’t much of an inconvenience. She’d planned on staying at the party until midnight anyway. But it had wound down early and when James opted to stay, Crow had agreed to take her home.
Though short, the party had been an unqualified success. At least according to James. He’d made several key contacts—the most promising of which was Stephen Comstock.
Sara had been proud watching James in action. All her life she’d dreamed of having such a man at her side—intelligent, handsome, successful and a Christian to boot. If she sometimes felt as if she were playing a role when she was with him, it was a small price to pay.
James had told her more than once she was perfect just the way she was, but she knew he was concerned about her stubborn steak, her tendency to speak her mind regardless of the costs and her amazing lack of humility. For some reason he couldn’t see that those “problem” attributes had been instrumental in helping her get where she was today.
If she wasn’t stubbornly determined to rise above the circumstances of her birth, she would have long ago given up her dreams and taken on an eight-to-five job that demanded little and paid even less.
If she didn’t believe her voice was a great gift from God and something that shouldn’t be wasted, she never would have been able to convince Meg to be her agent and to get those recording executives to give her a chance.
If…
“Here we are.” Crow pulled into an unpaved lot and the gravel crunched beneath the tires. “What do you think?”
Sara stared in dismay at the barnlike building. It was as bad as she’d imagined. With white paint peeling from the weathered siding and windows streaked with grime, it reminded her of the kind of places her mother used to take her. Places filled with smoke and rough-edged men. A shiver traveled up her spine.
“Give it a chance,” he said impatiently.
She leaned out the window and took a good look. “I sure hope you’re not a person who believes everything you read.”
Crow leaned across the seat and followed her gaze to a sign atop the building. Good Food Cheap.
“Well, it’s food and it is cheap.” His lips twitched. “Two out of three isn’t bad. C’mon, let’s go inside.”
“Remember, I’m not eating.” Sara unbuckled her seat belt.
“Suit yourself.” He reached for the door latch.
Sara got out of the car without waiting for Crow. Though James always insisted on being a gentleman and opening doors, she couldn’t see her bodyguard as the mannerly type. “How in the world did you ever find this place?”
“Angel and I—” he stopped abruptly and began again. “It’s a biker place. I’ve been here a few times.”
“Angel? What a pretty name.”
He ignored the comment and her questioning look. But her curiosity had been aroused and Sara couldn’t wait to continue the conversation once they were seated.
If possible, the interior was worse than she’d imagined. The once black-and-white-checked linoleum floor was now a dingy gray. The fly trap was there; just as she’d imagined, but instead of hanging it over the cash register they’d hung it farther back, close to the kitchen. Though she didn’t see any roaches, Sara knew the night was still young.
Crow took a seat and immediately picked up the plastic-coated menu.
Sara brushed the crumbs off the red vinyl seat and wiped the catsup off the edge of the table with a napkin from a chrome dispenser before she slid into the booth.
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “Who’s Angel?”
Crow slowly raised his gaze. “None of your business.”
She offered him an encouraging smile but he’d already returned his attention to the listing of Burgers, Burgers And More Burgers.
Sara narrowed her gaze. Ignoring her never worked, but he’d find that out for himself soon enough. “Just tell me one thing. Is this Angel your girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend? Wife? Ex-wife?”
“I’ve never been married.” He leveled her a narrowed glinting glance before turning back to the menu. “They’ve got great pork tenderloins here.”
When she just continued to stare, Crow nudged the menu she’d left lying on the table toward her. She shoved it aside without looking down. At the moment, food was the least of her concerns. Besides, one look at the place had convinced her it would be a cold day in hell before she ate here.
“How come you’re not married?” she said in her most persuasive manner. “You’re certainly old enough. How old are you anyway? Thirty-nine? Forty?”
He couldn’t be more than thirty but she wanted a reaction. Any reaction.
Crow laid his menu on the table and heaved an irritated sigh. “I’m thirty-two.”
Sara smiled to herself. Interrogating him was turning out to be a piece of cake. Flushed with success she pressed on. “All I want to know is if Angel is your current girlfriend or not? What’s so hard about that?”
Crow lifted his gaze. For a second she swore she saw a hint of amusement in the dark depths. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
“It’s part of my charm.” She tossed her head. “C’mon, fess up. Current or ex?”
“Angel’s an old friend. Nothing more.”
“Do I look stupid?”
“I’m serious.” He shook his head. “In many ways you remind me of her.”
“Oh, yeah?” She leaned forward, eager to hear more.
“Yeah,” Crow said, lifting his gaze. “She never knew when to shut up, either.”
Sara decided she liked the woman already.
“She’s stubborn as a mule.”
The woman rose another notch in Sara’s estimation. “Think you two might get together one day?”
“No way,” he said.
“Why not? Couples split up and get back together all the time.”
“I already told you we were never a couple.” He raised a hand and gestured for the waitress. “You’d better take a look at the menu.”
Time was running out. She switched gears. “When did you start dating Raven? Before or after Angel?”
“Are you crazy?” The expression on Crow’s face would have been laughable if he hadn’t bellowed so loud, the guys at the bar turned to look.
“Keep your voice down,” Sara whispered fiercely. The last thing she needed was to cause a scene. “Why deny it? I’ve seen you two together. It’s obvious she means a lot to you.”
Crow unclipped his tie and loosened the collar of his shirt. “What’s it to you, anyway?”
Sara shrugged. “I just want to know, that’s all.”
“You guys ready to order?” The waitress had jet-black hair, a butterfly tattooed on her right forearm and a tiny ring in her nose.
Sara considered pointing out to Crow that he and the woman had a lot in common, but she decided not to push her luck. “I’ll have an iced tea.”