Damn, I love that girl.
I twinge with shame, remembering that I didn’t tell her about that night we went out to Empire. And that I can’t call her and tell her about Mikhail for the same reason. I don’t want to feed her bits and pieces when she deserves nothing less than the full truth. I’m just not ready to give that to her, yet.
Thankfully, Veronica isn’t home, and I’m able to take a long, uninterrupted shower and blow-dry my hair. Then I find myself frozen at my closet door, wondering what the hell one wears to dinner with a man like Mikhail.
I settle on a flowy black dress with a simple, sweetheart neckline and a slit up the thigh. I’m hoping he won’t make me stand out in the cold for long, but at least I can wear my long black jacket with the dress.
I spend longer than usual applying my makeup, adding a darker lip with deep, red liner that looks incredible against my pale, winter skin. I’m just finishing my curl routine when my phone chimes with a text.
He can’t already be here, can he?
I rush to the window and split the blinds, peeking down at the driveway. Sure enough, my dinner date emerges from a sleek, black car, dressed in a crisp, black button-down that hugs his muscular frame in a way that should be illegal.
I jump into action, throwing my lipstick into my purse alongside my phone and wallet. The knock at the door sounds while I’m still upside-down, desperately trying to fluff up my hair and calm my frazzled nerves. I storm over and open the door.
I’ve always thought Mikhail was handsome as hell, but seeing him now, standing at my door with his hands tucked casually into his slacks, his beautiful dark hair waving back from his brow, is something else entirely. I practically have to shake myself free from the sight.
“Hello, Menace.” He smirks, gaze dipping down my body.
“You’re early.” I accuse, frowning. The corner of his lips curls up, revealing the cutest dimple dotting his cheek.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait,” he laughs, eyes meeting mine once more. “Will you forgive me?”
“You’ll have to make it up to me,” I tell him, eyes catching on his bunched biceps in his sleek-looking shirt. Seriously, who looks like that? The man’s forearm is probably bigger than my entire head.
He catches my line of sight, making me flush pink from being caught in my shameless scrutiny.
“Demanding as ever, hm?”
As we walk to his car, he slowly slides his arm behind my lower back, dipping his head against my cheek.
“You look stunning, Menace.”
I flush again.
At this rate, it’ll be a miracle if I get through this night without turning red as a cherry every five minutes. I embrace the bite of the wind tocool my neck and slide into the passenger seat as he holds the door open for me.
“Where are we going, Mikhail?” I ask, stupidly. He curves his fingers around the wheel, rolling onto the road.
“Have you ever been to Batiste?”
I snort.
“No, but to be fair, that sounds like it’s way out of my tax bracket.”
“I’ve been meaning to check up on my new manager over there, so I thought we might as well go over and test their food as well. What do you think?”
I gape.
“You own a restaurant too?” I shoot him a look of shock. Seriously, what does he do for work? I know it’s not entirely above board, but it must not be completely illegal for him and his businesses to be so exposed to the public eye. Right?
We hold light conversation during the forty-minute drive into the city. He asks me about my classes, my professors, my study habits—an endless stream of questions that feel more like an interrogation disguised as interest. When I try to turn the conversation back to him, he deflects with another question about me, his responses vague and carefully neutral.
It’s a bit frustrating after the promises he made me about trying to open up, but I understand that trust takes time to grow. I suppose I have my own secrets I’m not ready to voice, either.
It feels like such a long drive on a first date should be awkward, and it probably would be if I were with literally anyone else. With Mikhail, everything feels so incredibly natural, even if I’m starting to notice he’s not giving me much in return.
In no time at all, we’re rolling up to a beautiful wall of floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The restaurant is a completely different environment from Empire. Instead of the dark debauchery vibe of the club, everything in here is bright and open. Each table has its own dimly-lit sconce, separated just far enough to provide a sense of intimacy to every section.The wall parallel to the window is a deep, red brick, and vines spread across each crevice to cover the surface.
