Most celebrities like to make an entrance through the front because they enjoy how the fans rush up to them, surrounding them with pleas for autographs or pictures. Not me. That’s never been me. I’ve barely slid into my booth before a waitress slinks over to me, her bright green eyes lighting up as she sees me. “Dominic,” she exclaims, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and squeezing. I grin up at her, genuinely pleased to see her. Since she’s one of the only women who have ever turned me down, I shouldn’t be so partial to her. But that’s not the case. I actually like her. “Hey Alex.” She glances around me. “Where’s Miss Ashby? Should I watch for her?” I shake my head, remembering how I spent most of the night tied up in silk cords and getting my ass beat by her. She’d slipped out of my house before nine a.m. “Nope. She’s at work today. I’m here on my own.” “Just the way I like it,” Alex announces smirking. She sits across the table from me, comfortable now that she knows Amy isn’t coming. “How are things? I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks.”
