The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 28

Charley laughed. "There's a Michelin-starred spot right behind the house. Dinner is on me."

"Charley, please don't spend a fortune. Just a quick bite is perfectly fine."

"Just follow my lead."

They walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the tree-lined street, the leash held loosely in his hand. After a few blocks, they took a left down a narrow alley packed with modest, unassuming eateries.

He stopped in front of a tiny, weathered storefront. A battered wooden sign hung above the entrance: Manny's Chicken Pot.

She noticed a handwritten note taped to the door:

[Despite somehow landing on the Michelin three-star list, this establishment offers absolutely nothing extraordinary. Welcome, but kindly lower your expectations. If there is a line, please visit our neighbors—every restaurant on this street serves excellent food.]

Talk about character.

Because of the earlier storm, the dining room was practically empty. As they walked in with the dog, the owner immediately rushed out to greet them. "Thanks for gracing us with your presence again!"

"You're the one doing me the favor by staying open," Charley replied with an easy smile.

"Your usual private room is always waiting."

"Perfect." He glanced over his shoulder. "Let's head upstairs, Lavinia."

She blinked in surprise. But then she figured he was just adopting the same casual familiarity Saul used, treating her like a younger sibling.

The private room on the second floor was a stark contrast to the gritty storefront below. It was elegantly decorated with intricate stained-glass windows, heavy mahogany furniture, and stunning marble partitions.

It screamed understated, old-money elegance.

The owner hovered eagerly. "Boss, should I bring up your reserve bottle?"

"Not tonight, I still have to drive later."

"Understood. I'll go downstairs and personally prepare the best bird in the house for you."

"Thanks."

The food arrived remarkably fast. As Charley ladled a rich broth into her bowl, the owner brought out a generous platter of freshly boiled chicken breast and set it directly in front of Nemo.

Once they were alone, she took a hesitant sip of the soup. The fig and chicken broth was wonderfully sweet and incredibly nourishing, sending a wave of revitalizing warmth straight to her core.

"Eat." He casually placed a perfectly cooked scallop into her bowl.

Setting his silverware down, he delivered the news with clinical detachment. "Everyone in the financial sector knows Sigrid Sloan has been pushing a shady P2P lending project, using Garnett Harper's backing for credibility. Someone tipped off the authorities today about illegal fundraising, and regulators showed up at her door. She couldn't handle the fallout, so she called him to clean up her mess."

So that was it.

Her expression barely shifted. "I know Ms. Sloan."

"You're not furious?" he asked, watching her closely.

Meeting his gaze with wide, innocent eyes, she lied flawlessly, "Why would I be? They're just business partners."

He studied her face for a beat before a faint, knowing smile touched his lips.

"You must really love him."

"I do." She dropped her gaze back to her bowl. "He saved my life once."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his fingers twitch. The tendons on the back of his hand strained briefly against his skin before he forced his grip to relax.