“There you go with that stalking shit again.” I put my hand on my chest, trying to calm down. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you. When I see something I want, I go after it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m not someTHING. I’m someONE. And it’s gonna take more than stalking me to get to know me.”
He laughed. That low, warm sound that made my stomach do something I didn’t want to acknowledge.
“You right. My fault.” He took a step closer. “So let me do this properly. Mehar, would you like to go to dinner with me? Right now?”
“Right now? It’s like 8 o’clock.”
“Perfect time for dinner.”
“I’m not exactly dressed for?—”
“You look beautiful.”
I glanced down at myself. Jeans. A cropped sweater. A pair of ankle boots. My hair was in a messy bun from working all day. I probably smelled like cinnamon and sugar. Which wasn’t a bad scent.
“I’m serious,” he said. “You don’t need to change. Where we’re going, they don’t care about all that.”
“And where exactly are we going?”
“Omakase. It’s a chef’s tasting spot. Japanese. High-end, but lowkey. Trust me.”
I should’ve said no. Should’ve told him I was tired, that I had an early morning, that I barely knew him. But something about the way he was looking at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in his whole night—made me hesitate.
“Fine,” I heard myself say. “But I’m driving myself. And if it’s wack, I’m leaving.”
He grinned. “Fair enough. Follow me.”
The restaurant was hiddenon a quiet street in Georgetown.
No sign out front. Just a black door with a small gold handle. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d walk right past it.
Inside, it was intimate. Maybe ten seats total, all at a long wooden counter facing the chef. The lighting was low and warm. Soft ambient music played from somewhere I couldn’t see. It smelled like the ocean and something smoky.
“Welcome to Kintsugi.” The hostess smiled warmly. “Do you have a reservation?”
“Banks. Party of two.”
She checked her list and nodded. “Right this way.”
She led us to two seats at the end of the counter. Thad pulled out my chair before I could do it myself.
“You’ve never been here before?” I asked, looking around.
“Nah. I heard about it though. Been wanting to try it.” He looked at me. “But I was waiting for the right person to bring.”
I tried not to smile. Failed.
“That line work on everybody?”
“I don’t know. You’re the first person I’ve used it on.”
“And you just knew thatI would say yes, huh? You had the reservation already lined up before asking me.”
“If you said no, I would’ve just canceled and paid the $75 cancellation fee. But I would’ve gotten my payback later,” he winked as his hand grazed my thigh.
