“Bye, Daddy,” she says to me as I walk to kiss Westley and then Vincent.
“Be good,” I remind them, turning and walking out of the house and heading straight to my SUV.
I see the reflection of my outfit in the SUV. The black casual pants fit me perfectly and are rolled up at the ankle, the cuff made like that. The cream-colored short-sleeve sweater I have under the jacket hangs over the waist of the pants. The white sneakers flash against the black of the SUV. I get in and put the address of the restaurant in the GPS before pulling out of the driveway and heading to the restaurant.
I look out the window when I pull up to a red light as I think about Kylie. My head replays her drinking coffee in front of me and it feeling so natural for us to be sharing the morning with each other. A horn honks from behind, snapping me out of my fog and I look ahead as I make my way to the restaurant. I pull up and stop when I see the valet sign in front of the restaurant. Parking the car, I step out and he hands me a ticket. I place the ticket in the inside of my jacket as I walk into the restaurant.
The place is half-packed already, people waiting on both sides of the hostess stand. I head toward the black stand. “How can I help you?” The blonde smiles at me.
“I have a reservation under the name Ariella,” I say, “for two.”
She looks down at the paper and then turns to the iPad that is right next to her. The layout of the restaurant is on the screen. She moves her finger over it before she finds the empty table where she is going to put me. “Right this way,” she says, touching the screen before grabbing two leather-bound menus and a wine list in her hand. She turns and I follow her into the restaurant, where round tables in different sizes fill the room. The back of the restaurant is open and you can see the kitchen staff hard at work. The lighting is dimmed and in the middle of each table are a couple of candles that give a romantic ambiance. She zigzags through the tables, leading us to one in the corner, facing a big window that overlooks the ocean. She places one menu on each place setting across from each other. “Your server will be right with you,” she says, and I pull out a chair and sit down.
The nerves come on so fast it’s getting harder to breathe. I think about getting up and bolting, but then think Ariella will never talk to me again and Jaxon, well, Jaxon will—without a doubt—kick my ass for upsetting Ariella. “Eat and leave,” I tell myself. I have never regretted saying yes to anything before in my life. And I’ve done a lot of shit I’m not proud of, but this I think takes it. It’s a disservice to the woman who I’m meeting because all I can do is fucking think of Kylie, who has made it abundantly clear the only thing she wants from me is my dick.
I look down at the menu, scanning the items, when I feel movement beside the table and look up. The woman who has been on my mind for the last week is now standing right beside my table. “You have got to be kidding,” she mumbles and I glare.
“I have to be kidding?” I retort, shutting the menu and putting it back down. “I have to be kidding?” I don’t know if I’m asking her or telling her. “Did you do this on purpose?” I point at her.
She looks at me and if looks could kill, I would be six feet underground. “Don’t fucking flatter yourself,” she hisses and I make the mistake of taking in her outfit. Her top looks like she’s just wearing a black bra, but I see the black lace against her skin. Skin I’ve touched. Skin I’ve kissed. Skin I’ve licked. Skin I want to come on. My cock gets hard in my pants. “I cannot believe I fell for this shit.”
She shakes her head and then does the unthinkable, she walks to the empty chair across from me, pulls it out, and sits. “I’m going to kill them,” she mumbles, “but I’m going to do it on a full fucking stomach.” She puts her purse down beside her on the floor and does the next unthinkable thing. She takes off her fucking jacket, leaving her in that lace top. Her shoulders are bare with just the little spaghetti straps.
“Let me get this straight,” I lean back in my chair, “you are my date.”
“Oh no.” She shakes her head, laughing. “Nope, that would not be me.”
“They called me tonight to ask me to fill in for the girl who was going to stand you up,” she shares with a smile. “Your date didn’t even want to come here.”
“But you did?” I stare into her eyes and the need to reach over the table and yank her to me almost makes me explode.
“I felt sorry for the guy,” she says. “You, not so much. I can understand her now.” She smiles at me and it’s the fakest smile I’ve ever gotten in my life.
“Hello, welcome to Trattoria,” the waiter announces, dressed in black pants and a white shirt, a black bow tie at his neck. “I’m Geraldo and I’ll be your server for the night.” He looks at us. “Can I start you with something to drink?”
“I’ll have a bottle of your most expensive Pinot Grigio,” she says to him, “one glass.” He tries not to show her that he’s about to smile, nodding and then turning to me.
“I’ll have a bottle of sparkling water, one glass,” I repeat what she said.
“So we’re going to stay on this date?” I ask her when he walks away.
“We might as well since I’m here already.” She grabs her menu. “You’re welcome, by the way.” She never looks up at me as she reads the menu. “If it wasn’t for me, you would be sitting here by yourself.”
“I might prefer it,” I retort and she snorts.
“Might? I would definitely prefer it.”
“Okay, since we’re here and we have agreed we are going to stay on this date.” Her eyebrows go up as she looks up at me. “We have agreed to share a meal together.”
“That’s better.”
“Why don’t we both cut the attitude?” I try to make peace with her.
“I,” she puts her hand on the top of her chest, “don’t have an attitude.” She rolls her eyes at the look I give her. “Okay, fine. I’ll be nice,” she gives in.
The waiter comes back with the bottle of wine in one hand and a silver bucket with a stand in the other. He places the bucket on the side of the table in between us. He shows her the bottle, and she nods at it before he takes out his wine opener, uncorks it, and then pours a bit in the wine glass on the table.
She picks it up and swirls it around before taking a sip and then smiling up at him. “Delightful,” she compliments and he smiles back at her, filling her glass halfway and putting the bottle in the silver bucket.
