“God, you’re so fucking hot, Bev. I can’t wait to see you in these.” He pulled me towards him and gave me a deep lingering kiss.
“Save some for me,” Todd said, nuzzling the back of my neck with his nose.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the clerk staring at us, her eyes wide. Eat your heart out!
They both insisted on paying for the panties they picked out. Since they were going to be enjoying them also, I figured hey, why not!
After paying, we stopped by the dress department. I snagged a pair of slacks and two light tops; a mesh white sweater and a striped boat neck. Then, I tried on several dresses. They all looked pretty decent, but none of them were quite right. As I shifted through the racks again, I spied a little red jersey dress. When I put it on I knew it was right, and the way Dave and Todd stared at me when I modeled it confirmed the choice. It was simple, sleeveless, and form fitting, with a hidden back zip. Paired with the peek a-boo shoes, it was perfect! I found a little cream sweater that was on sale to go over it.
We were all dressed and ready to meet Cal at the Japanese restaurant. It was good that we were feeling refreshed for the meeting. But, that didn’t mean we were ready for what was to come. What could this man really want with us? What were his true intentions?
33
I had only been to a Japanese restaurant once, years before when I’d gone on vacation to a theme park. I was so tired that day from walking around the park that I’d fallen asleep at the hibachi table and missed almost the entire experience. That was not about to happen tonight.
As soon as we arrived and told the hostess stand we were there to meet Calvin Peet we were given golden service. We were quickly whisked past the smiling pictures of happy hibachi eaters pinned to the wall and the line of customers waiting for a table to an elegant, private room in the back. Several waiters stood by attentively, and Margaret Redson greeted us while they took our drink orders.
A small bar near the wall boasted bottled Japanese beer, sake, plum wine, and other alcoholic beverages. Dave and Todd ordered a beer while I opted for a small cup of hot sake.
I had barely taken a sip of my drink when a tall, muscular man entered the room, followed by two burly types. He was handsome with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and he exuded an aura of wealth and confidence.
Margaret Redson quickly rushed over to him. “Mr. Peet, it is so wonderful to see you. Dave, Todd, Beverly—this is Mr. Calvin Peet.”
“Let’s not be so formal. Call me Cal,” he said, stroking back a lock of his thick, dark hair. He shook Todd and Dave’s hands quickly. “It’s delightful to finally meet you at last,” he stated.
When he got to me, he paused, looking me up and down. His eyes roamed my body, taking in my red patent heels and form fitting dress. “You are certainly a beauty, Beverly.”
Like any woman I enjoyed being called beautiful, but for some reason his words and gaze made me uncomfortable. Despite his good looks, there was something cruel about his eyes—something that made me uneasy.
As we sat down at the hibachi table, the two men who had accompanied Cal into the room stood behind him. I realized then they were his bodyguards. What type of man travels with bodyguards?
“So, let’s get this party started, shall we?” he asked. He nodded towards our hibachi chef who had been standing attentively nearby, and he rolled his cart over to us. Though no one had taken our orders, there was a mass amount of food on the steel trays. We weren’t going to go hungry, that was for sure. I could see shrimp, scallops, lobster, steak, and chicken, accompanied by an abundance of fresh vegetables and rice.
The cook, eager to please, played games on the grill with the different foods. He made an onion volcano, tossed an egg into the air that landed in his hat, and set off a huge, flaming fire on the grill that made us all howl with laughter. We enjoyed watching as we indulged in the alcohol and miso soup.
The waitress brought each of us a salad just as the chef finished cooking a few appetizer shrimp. “Do you want to catch?” he asked. As he went around the table, he flipped the shrimp in the air off his spatula, aiming it directly at each person’s mouth. Margaret missed, but Todd’s landed directly on his tongue. Both Cal and I declined to try. I wasn’t sure why Cal didn’t want to do it, but I wanted to look hot ‘n sexy, and having shrimp thrown at my head didn’t work with that.
Finally, he got to Dave.
“You want to try?”
Dave nodded his head. The chef did a little drumroll with his spatula and salt-shaker, then flipped the shrimp into the air. Dave opened his mouth wide to catch the flying morsel of food, but the chef had aimed too high. Without thinking, Dave leapt out of his chair and snapped the shrimp with his teeth, his head jerking to the side as he gobbled it down quickly. It was a small feat, but a pretty impossible one for a human that was not a werewolf.