Cain: I know you don’t owe me an answer about what I said until I get back, but I miss you.
Two hours later, I’m stepping off the platform and onto the bustling streets, weaving through the crowd of people as I make my way to the restaurant that Rebel reserved for our meeting.
When I spot him waiting at the entrance, he’s leaning casually against the doorway, sunglasses disguising his eyes, joint cooly placed between two of his tattooed fingers.
His midnight-black hair is slicked back, and his outfit is understated yet looks expensive. For a moment, I let myself hope that maybe I won’t have to fake it tonight and can even have a little fun.
“Hello, love,” he greets me, his voice carrying the faintest trace of a British accent that makes the words feel like a caress. He leans down, his lips brushing my cheek in a gentle kiss, before straightening and guiding me inside with an easy confidence.
The restaurant he’s chosen is far more upscale than anywhere I’d ever dream of going on my own. It’s a sleek blend of Asian fusion with a distinct NYC edge, the air humming with sophistication and the upcoming holiday season.
Lanterns hang gracefully from the ceiling, casting a warm, inviting glow over the space, while soft, melodic music drifts through the room, adding to the ambiance.
Our server leads us toward a table tucked near the back, offering just enough privacy to feel intimate without being completely hidden away.
“Good evening. My name is Al. What can I get you to drink tonight?” our server asks.
“I’ll take a glass of Yamazaki,” Rebel orders.
“I’ll just have a glass of your red wine,” I respond with a smile. When the server leaves, I pick up the menu, but Rebel stops me.
“I’m glad we could reschedule. You know, I’ve never had a woman cancel on me before.”
I smile, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry about that. Something came up with work.”
He nods, his sunglasses still firmly in place over his eyes. It’s a bit unnerving sitting across from him in a dimply lit restaurant and not being able to see where he’s looking. I don’t know why he won’t remove them, but I’ve never met up with someone this famous before outside of work. This could be totally normal behavior.
“I understand the demands of having a career that pulls you away at the worst times,” he replies.
I smile as our server drops off our drinks. “Thank you for rescheduling, because I’m really excited to learn more about the line that you’re launching. Will you tell me about your vision for it?”
He sits back in his chair. “Before we get to that, why don’t you tell me about yourself.”
“Oh… sure. Well, modeling is just a part time gig for me right now. Most of my time is split between three other jobs.”
“Wow, you have a lot on your plate. What all do you do?”
I decide to keep my explanation brief, just touching on their titles and ending with my role as a therapist.
Rebel raises his brow. “A sex therapist? Do you watch other people have sex?”
I bite down on my lip, trying not to laugh. “No. I help provide supports to couples and individuals on sexual and intimacy issues.”
“Damn, I bet you’ve seen some freaky things. Do you get to watch?”
Did he even listen to what I just said?
“Um, no. It’s more about working on communication and non-sexual intimacy.”
He pulls off his sunglasses for the first time tonight, and I finally get a glimpse of those blue eyes that I haven’t seen since the music video shoot. But the moment his gaze lands on mine, I feel uncomfortable and like I’d rather be anywhere else but here.
His eyes are red, glassy, and unfocused, as if he’s looking straight through me rather than at me. Whether it’s alcohol, drugs,or something else entirely, it’s obvious something isn’t right. The vibrant, magnetic energy I remembered on set is absent, replaced by a hollow detachment that sends a chill down my spine.
Cain’s words run through my mind about Rebel’s history with women and how I need to be careful around him.
I clear my throat, forcing myself to stay composed and get the conversation back on track.
But as I sit here, face to face with him, any trace of excitement that I’d felt about modeling for him earlier fizzles out completely. Instead, I feel disinterested, wishing I was with Cain instead.
