Jack bit down on his tongue. He'd dealt with his fair share of gold diggers. Every man in his stratosphere had women fling themselves at their feet. Most hoping for a diamond necklace as a parting gift, others looking for more long-term monetary commitments. Paternity tests were his friends, right behind condoms. Men used more direct methods: blackmail, coercion, intimidation. But it was rare for someone to so blatantly asked for cash like this. This low life must think he was born yesterday.

Or was Solana in on this as well? Was this a scheme the two of them cooked up together? She plays all innocent to snare him while this brute waits in the wings to strike. A sharp pain pricked at the spot where his heart should have rested. Was he letting his blind desire for this woman lead him into a trap?

He studied Abraham. With a wide grin and hands flat on the table, the creep exuded calmness. Too much calmness. Jack recognized the signs of an attempt to appear nonchalant, having experienced it a thousand times during negotiations. Abraham wasn't bad at masking his desperation, but the signs were there if you looked. The flat hands pressed against the table so they wouldn't fidget, the smile too fixed. The giveaway was how Abraham's eyes darted to the front door, as if hoping no one would come in and observe his deception.

No, Jack was willing to bet this plan was the brainchild of this man. Alone. Solana probably had no idea her lifelong friend was making deals behind her back. Jack wondered how many times Abraham had done this in the past, under the pretense of protecting his family. Surely more than once. He came up with the plan too quickly. "How exactly does my giving you money help Solana?"

"You give me say—" Abraham's eyes again darted to the entrance of the restaurant "—five thousand dollars. I pass that along to Solana to give to you tomorrow night at the party. You accept your own money back and call it a day. Everyone's happy."

Particularly Abraham. He'd come out of this situation smelling like roses. The thought made the coffee in Jack's stomach burn. He weighed Solana's gratification at relieving the debt against Abraham getting the upper hand. In the few interactions he'd had with the woman, she'd proven beyond a doubt stubbornness was a dominant trait. And so was commitment. Money meant little to him, but held importance to her. This perceived debt would always hang between them. If removing the stupid notion she owed him cash helped her clear her conscious, the whole charade might be worth it.

"And she'll just believe you have this money lying around?" Jack waved a hand at the empty tables.

"I'll say I had a windfall at the track. It's happened before." Big teeth glimmered in the sunlight. "I'll share with her. She'll believe it."

A veil of red marred his vision. Seems Abraham had a habit of deceiving Solana. The urge to swipe the smile off the jerk's face intensified. Jack chose to fight with words instead. "Big gambler are you?"

"I've been known to dabble."

Another nugget to file away for later use. "That's all well and good for you. You come out smelling like roses. Don't see how I gain anything."

Abraham bent his head from side to side and cracked his neck. "You help Mrs. Monero. She's all kinds of guilty over not taking her diabetes pills and passing out like that. Causing this mess in the first place."

Ah, this was what Ethan couldn't tell him, what had caused the fall. A wave of relief washed over Jack. Ximena wasn't fatally ill. Sure, diabetes could be serious, but with proper management, including consistent medication and a healthy diet, the condition didn't have to be life threatening. Blackhorne & Caldwell produced a line of diabetic treatments and he wondered which one Ximena's doctor had prescribed. Medical records were harder to infiltrate, but he'd bet Wolf could find out.

The more curious question was why the obviously smart woman would be so foolish as to not keep up with the easy regiment of what was most likely just a pill a day.

"That's what you want, right?" Abraham dared.

He wanted a whole lot more, but decided not to flaunt that fact at this particular moment.

"The point is, Solana trusts me. I can get her to take the money."

This was infuriating. Why wouldn't the stubborn woman just accept his charity? Having to go through this scoundrel was ass backwards.

"Say I agree to this..." Jack noted the glint in Abraham's dark eyes, thinking he'd won. This was the sweetest part of any negotiation. Time to bat the mouse around a bit. "How does this work?" Jack nodded at the cash register. "Do you take credit cards? Will I get a receipt?"

The curve of Abraham's lip turned upside down. "Funny guy. It'll have to be in cash."

"And you presume I have that kind of money lying around?"

"You gave that ambulance driver your Rolex without a thought." So, Abraham had paid attention, down to noting the brand of watch he'd worn that day. Satisfaction rolled around in Jack's chest, settling into the empty pit where his heart should reside. Abraham was envious.

Good.

"Might take me a while to liquidate that kind of cash." Truth was, he had five times that much in the safe in his penthouse. Petty cash for emergency's sake. It was surprising how often one found themselves in need of after-hours non-traceable funds. A bribe here, a pay off there. ATMs were just such a hassle.

"There's a horse in tomorrow's race I have my eye on." Abraham smirked. "I'm sure a powerful man like yourself can find the means to get it to me before tomorrow night."

The inept attempt at flattery skidded across Jack's skin like a dull razor. He considered for a moment calling the whole thing off, finding another way to absolve Solana of her perceived obligation. Without this leeches' involvement. But Solana didn't trust him, had no reason to, and Abraham was his best bet to move his plan along. The wait was infuriating, and he was altogether putting too much effort into some meaningless sex. One night with Solana was all he needed.

One night? When had he switched horses from instant gratification in his office to planning an entire night with her? He had to scratch this itch and be done with it.

The surge of irritation cleared, and Jack forced his heart rate to regulate. "I suppose I can pull a few strings."

"Good."

Jack waited until Abraham raised his mug to his mouth. "You know. I can't get my night with her in Vegas out of my mind." Abraham choked on his coffee, dribbles of the dark liquid hitting the white tablecloth. "The way she—"

"Don't need the details." Abraham slammed the cup down. Jack readied for the verbal onslaught defending Solana's honour or, better yet, an attempt to kick him out of the restaurant. Neither came. Aside from a red flush currently pushing its way up Abraham's neck, he remained composed as he stood up and offered Jack his hand. "The point is, you won't have to see her again."

The comment snagged on his conscious until Jack remembered he'd have tomorrow night. And once he got what he wanted, released the pent up tension between them, it would be all worth it. He stood to his full height, pressed his palm against Abraham's, and squeezed.

A rush of traffic noise filtered through the room as the front door to the restaurant opened. Both men turned and Solana stopped in her tracks at the sight of the only two patrons in the place.

"I'd throw in an extra thousand for a weekend with her. I'm free on the 25th."

Stars exploded before Jack's eyes as Abraham's fist slammed into his chin. The force of the punch knocked him off kilter, and he stumbled into an empty booth. Not since university had anyone landed a substantial hit and for a moment, he revelled in the sensation. Until his jaw erupted in searing pain, paired with a ringing in his ears. He raised a hand to the injury, as if he could rub the pain away.

Warm fingers pressed against his hand, drawing it away from the damage. The stars cleared and Jack found his favourite pair of hazel eyes before him, flames licking at the edges, but not in anger. No, more like concern.

Jack blinked. Solana still stood before him, plump lips parted, her fingertips caressing his injured face. The sensation of her gentle touch drowned out the persistent pain and he decided he wouldn't mind being punched again if this was the aftermath.

As if trying to draw the ache from his face, she squeezed his hand. "Are you alright?"

He tore his eyes from the storm in her irises to focus on the additional source of discomfort. Her delicate digits tangled like vines in his branch-like fingers, opposites yet somehow they fit. Warmth radiated from her grasp, spread up his arm, across his shoulder and into his chest.

Of its own accord, his other hand reached out and mirrored her position, tracing the curve of her cheek. Soft skin flushed at his touch, and he marvelled at the fact she was not a figment of his imagination. She was real, solid, lovely. "How are you here?"

His question caused the frown lines on her forehead to melt away and a small smile graced her lips. His thumb swept across her mouth and the smile intensified.

"I work here." Her voice was hushed, almost as if she were out of breath. "Why are you here?"

To save you. The question and the stupid response he almost blurted out shook him out of the stupor the punch seemed to have stuck him in. He cleared his throat, withdrew his hand from her face, released his grip on her fingers, and pushed away from the plastic covering of the booth.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Jack straightened the lapels of his jacket, pulled his tie back into place, and squared his shoulders. "Not even a scratch, sweetheart."