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I would’ve heard the alerts.
    The first text, Stella said she was sorry for allowing Dave to distract her and that she said she was looking for me. Knowing now what Dave looked like, it was easy to imagine how he could delay a girl. The next three texts wondered where I was, each more hysterical than the last.
    “New phone?” He nodded toward it, smirking. “Or should I say old phone? Downgraded, huh?”
    Oops. Right. Jackie and I hadn’t switched phones.
    “The other one was acting up, so I had them connect to this one until Stella could sort it out.” I returned to texting Stella, hoping he bought my lie. Lies would be so much easier to avoid if I walked away and drove home with Stella. But I’d already committed…
    My cell phone vibrated and I checked the text. Stella again. Don’t go a/where with him. 2 risky. Where r u?
    I glanced at Dallas and the thrumming in my veins reaffirmed my decision.
    It was just dinner.
    Leaving the volume down, I closed my phone and dropped it in my purse. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Four
     
    As Dallas backed his black, Mercedes SUV out of the parking spot, I retrieved my phone and replied to Stella. Sorry. Already gone. Dallas will drop me off.
    It vibrated again seconds later. Are you INSANE??!! Stop the car! I'll pick u up wherever u r. Say u hv a headache, say ANYTHING. Just get out of the car!
    Too late now. Sorry! I typed back. I bit my lip, suppressing a smile. I wasn’t big on breaking rules. What had I been thinking in saying yes? Maybe Jackie’s personality was rubbing off on me. I’ll c u in the a.m .
    After a long silence, a new text came in. T mrw is Sat. U hv that gig @ 2. I will b there @ 12 sharp & help u get ready. If I still hv a job by then.... As soon as I finished reading it, another text appeared. U better not blow my bonus .
    I probably would blow it with Dallas. Obviously, the more time I spent with him, the greater the chance of him catching on — if he hadn’t already. But something in my gut told me that Dallas wasn’t the kind of guy who’d sell me out.
    And didn't I deserve one nice meal for all my hard work on the red carpet?
    “Why didn’t you arrive in a limo like everyone else?” I asked.
    “I prefer driving over being a passenger,” he said, glancing at me as I dropped the phone back into my purse. “You seem better. I'm glad. I know how hard it’s been for you lately. People don’t recover from that kind of thing overnight.”
    The married guy, of course. But I didn’t want to go there, since I’d never even met Pete. Instead, I just nodded.
    We went to one of those cute little sidewalk cafés on Franklin, close to our building. Everyone stared as the hostess seated us at a table in the corner where we weren’t as conspicuous. Like that was even possible the way we were dressed.
    Crowded white-clothed tables surrounded us and waiters bustled, weaving between customers. Several girls slightly younger than me giggled at the curb and pointed at Dallas. But the chaos of the restaurant, and the passing cars just yards away, deterred them from approaching us. Fine by me. I wanted him all to myself.
    A few minutes later, a waitress with dark, spiky hair stood by our table and took our order. He ordered a burger with fries and I chose the garlic roasted chicken.
    “Where’s the restroom?” I asked Dallas.
    He narrowed his eyes. “We’ve eaten here before.”
    Oops. “Extreme hunger is draining my brain.” I lifted one bare shoulder and gave him my best helpless-damsel look.
    He didn’t look any less suspicious. “All the way in the back, take a right.”
    I left and, a few minutes later, made my way back to Dallas and the chair across from him.
    He greeted me with a smile. “Two things women can always depend on at those red carpet events. Sore feet and starvation.”
    “No kidding.” I giggled.
    Our waitress set a basket of bread on the table, along with our entrees, then hurried off.
    “That was fast.” Dallas leaned