“Sloane.”

Silky smooth.

“Adam.”

My greeting was met with a tightening of his strong, square jaw. That was not the first time I’d seen that reaction when I said his name, though it was new. Maybe he was one of those dominant men who liked women to call them by their surname. Or maybe Adam liked his women really submissive and to call him Daddy or Master and he didn’t like me calling him by his first name.

Welp, he’s shit outta luck if that’s the case.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Traffic was a bitch.”

Last time I’d checked my watch it had been twenty after eight. He wasn’t late, I was early. I had a thing about punctuality. Actually, it was more like an obsession. I despised being late. I didn’t like my time wasted and showed the same respect to those I had appointments with.

“PCH is always jammed,” I reminded him.

“Actually, there was an accident on the One-Oh-One.”

I almost, kind of, sort of felt a twinge of guilt for having Adam come back to The Valley for dinner. I knew he lived in Malibu and me going to the beach since he’d already been in Encino once today would’ve been the nice thing to do. When I’d texted him a location to meet, I was at the height of plotting my newest ploy to get information about my friend, a plan that was going to include the hot guy I had a feeling would’ve been the man of my dreams—voyeurism notwithstanding—if I were at a place in my life where I could dream about a man, even one who was off-limits to me. Which meant I wasn’t feeling altruistic. On top of that, I was feeling unusually bitchy, and I wanted a steak. And everyone knew Delmonico’s was the best place in Encino to get a steak. Yes, even better than Ruth’s Chris. Though we would’ve needed to go to Woodland Hills to dine there, which would’ve been ten minutes closer for Adam. However, as noted I was in the midst of plotting and not worried about Adam’s drive time.

But since normally I was a nice person—some might even call me kind—I did feel that small twinge of guilt. However, I didn’t tell Adam this.

“Anyone hurt?”

“Don’t have a police radio in my car or a direct line of communication with dispatch so I can’t answer that with authority, but if you’re asking if I saw an ambulance or a life flight, the answer to that is no. Though someone’s likely mighty pissed their Maserati’s on a flatbed smashed to fuck.”

I tried not to smile at his comeback which also meant I tried and pretty much failed to ignore I liked his sense of humor.

The bartender picked the perfect time to approach, pulling me out of the beginnings of a mental rant about how stupid I was for thinking I could resist Adam, and that was before I found out he was amusing.