I grin. “It can be arranged.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
Albert slows, pulling up at Le Jardin Privé, a French bistro with a waiting list stretching to Mars. The second we’re through the front door, I know I’ve fucked up. It’s the kind of place only the wealthy elite dine, where the women I dated previously would expect to be taken. But it’s a million miles away from what Violet would like, and I should have thought of that. As theservers fuss over us, bending and scraping to our every whim, I see her pull back.
She’s smiling, polite as ever. She’s eating everything on her plate, nodding when the sommelier explains the wine pairing, thanking the server each time he refills her glass. But her eyes...
That distant look. The one where it’s like the light inside her has gone out. She’s here, but not really. She’s pretending. And all I’m doing is making her believe we’re worlds apart. But we’re not. Far from it. I guess over the years, I’ve lost sight of myself and become the person people expected me to be.
And I fucking hate it.
I should have known this wasn’t her. I should have taken her somewhere that feels likeher, not this pretentious bullshit, because Violet doesn’t need to be impressed. She never did.
Just when I think the day can’t get any worse, a voice I’d rather never hear again drifts over my shoulder.
“Oh my god, Chase, itisyou. I saw you from over there, and I wasn’t sure.”
Reluctantly, I turn. “Claire,” I say, trying to convey a bigfuck offwith my eyes, but she’s always been as thick-skinned as a sun-baked cowhide. We were in the same program at Stanford and, unfortunately, share some drunken history that’s best forgotten—if only she would.
Her gaze slides to Violet, eyes sharpening like a wolf catching the scent of something interesting. “And who is this lovely thing?” She asks, voice all sugar and spite. “Are you dating?”
“Yes,” I reply at the exact moment Violet says, “No.”
“Oh,” Claire purrs, clearly delighted with this turn of events. “Seems like you’re getting ahead of yourself, Chase.” She turns to Violet, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Probably for the best. I don’t think Chase would understand commitment even if you gave him the exact page number in the dictionary.”
For fuck’s sake.
I’m one second away from stabbing myself with the butter knife when Claire piles on more. “Why don’t my friends and I pull up a few chairs? We can reminisce about old times at Stanford.So manygood stories.”
Abruptly, I stand, braving a look at Violet. Surprisingly, rather than looking pissed by the exchange, she looks like she’s barely holding back a laugh.
“We were just leaving, weren’t we, Violet?” I say, narrowing my eyes at her as she presses her lips together in a desperate attempt to hold it together.
“Yes,” she sputters, covering her mouth as she shrugs into her jacket. I grab her hand, and she mercifully takes it. Before Claire can get another word in, I shove a thousand dollars into the server’s hand and half-jog us out the door.
We bundle into the back of the limo, and Violet collapses into laughter.
“God, you hated every second of that,” I say, amusement tugging at my mouth.
“No, it was nice,” she lies with zero conviction, still catching her breath.
I slide a hand up her neck, fingers curving around her jaw possessively. Her laughter dies on a sharp inhale. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Violet.”
Her eyes spark with mischief as they hold mine. “The food was nice,but...” She leans into my touch, her cheek pressing against my palm. “What kind of restaurant calls broccoli ajourney of flavors?” She breaks into laughter again, her stunning smile catching the afternoon sunlight.
That does it. I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her laughter in a punishing kiss, tasting amusement and the last traces of expensive wine on her lips.
She exhales into me, her lips parting just enough to let me deepen the kiss before she pulls back slightly, her teeth nippingplayfully at my bottom lip between licks. “But you know what Ireallyliked?” she murmurs, breath warm against my mouth. “The sheer horroronyour face when yourfriendcame over to say hello.”
“Oh, I see,” I murmur, kicking my foot over the button to raise the limo’s privacy screen. “I’msoglad my suffering entertains you.”
She sucks in a breath, glancing at the screen. “Why did you close it?”
“I don’t think you’ll want Albert to see this.” A slow smirk tugs at my lips as a tremor rolls through her. I don’t make a move yet. Just trace my thumb over her cheek, sensing the tension flicker beneath her skin.
“See what?” She gulps.
Her breath fans my cheek as I work open the buttons of her shirt, revealing a pink lace bra that’s practically begging for my hands.
