Bet''s attention had already shifted to Bullet. “Bullet, let''s go."


    The dog, however, didn''t move, staying right by Yvonne''s side.


    Bet''s voice grew firmer. "Bullet."


    The fur on Bullet''s back bristled. Reluctantly, he followed Bet out the door.


    Mr. Cooper sat up in his chair, ncing from the departing Bet to Yvonne. "The dress fits, doesn''t it? Why are you still lingering here? Go on, go home with your boyfriend." He waved a dismissive hand at her.


    Yvonne could no longer stay. She slowly made her way outside. Bullet was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. When he saw her, he wagged his tail and barked happily. Bet''s ck G-Wagon was parked nearby. He was leaning against the car door, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.


    “You didn''t drive?” he asked, flicking the ash as he looked up at her, his dark eyes as unreadable as ever.


    "No," she mumbled. Her usual car was in for maintenance, and she hadn''t bothered to take another.


    “Get in,” he said, then extinguished his cigarette and slid into the driver''s seat, leaving her no room to refuse.


    Yvonne hesitated before opening the back door and climbing in. She wanted to say no, to keep her distance, but repeated refusals. might seem like she was ying games. Bullet jumped in after her, settling beside her and panting happily. She gently patted his head, and he quieted down.


    The drive back to the Spencer estate was over an hour long, spent in a heavy, suffocating silence. Bet focused on the road, not sparing her a single word or nce.


    When he pulled up to the manor


    gates, Yvonne got out. Bullet started


    to follow, but a cold look from


    Bet stopped him in his tracks Yvonne walked around to the front of the car and said politely, "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Thompson."


    “Mm,” he grunted, then turned the wheel and drove off.


    She stood there until his car was out of sight before turning to go inside. Just as


    as she slipped off her heels,


    she saw Teresa and Queena staring ther from the living room.


    "What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?" she asked, her bare feet cool against the hardwood floor.


    "Was that Mr. Thompson who just dropped you off?" Teresa asked, her toneced with surprise.