Sophia smiles shyly. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Bartlett."
"Shirley. You'll call me Shirley like the rest of the world does."
Sophia nods before her gaze drops to her watch.
My time with her is rapidly running out, so I scan the space for an open table. "We'll take that back table, Shirl. I'll have my regular and Sophia will have a glass of red wine."
"White wine," Sophia corrects me. "Tonight I'm drinking white wine."
I smile. "White wine it is. A glass from your best bottle, Shirley."
"House white is fine." Sophia smirks.
"This is her, isn't it?" Shirley turns to face me directly. "This is the girl your mama told me about. This is the fashion designer."
Sophia shuffles on her feet.
"Yes," I answer clearly. "This is her. Sophia is the woman my mom told you about. She's the most incredible woman I've ever known."
"What I saidto Shirley is true. You are the most incredible woman I've ever known."
She traces her index finger around the rim of her wine glass. "I guess I should thank you for the compliment."
She hasn't said a word to me since we sat down. We waited in silence for Shirley to bring our drinks and then as she went on about a conversation she had earlier today with my mom, I listened fully aware that every second was eating into my time with Sophia. I finally asked Shirley to give us a minute and she did without question.
"I'm sorry, Sophia."
Her gaze trails over my face. I see the sadness in her eyes. It's been there since that night at Hibiscus when I accused her of the unimaginable. "I know that you are."
My heart buoys with her words even though I know she's the forgiving type. She's more compassionate than most people. I saw that tonight when she gave a piece of herself to everyone at her party. "I should have taken some time to decompress after I found out the book was made public. I was angry and when I lashed out, that was completely wrong. There's no excuse for the way I treated you."
She nods. "I get that you were upset about your book showing up online, Nicholas. What I don't get is how you jumped to the conclusion that I was responsible for that."
It's a fair question. I know she's not referring to the fact that at the time I believed that the only two people who had access to that file were the two of us. She wants to know how I thought she was capable of something so underhanded. "I wasn't thinking straight. I was panicked. I didn't take a minute to think about the woman I had spent all that time with."
"You only considered the cold, hard facts?"
"It's all I could see in front of me at the time," I say truthfully before I take a swallow of whiskey to fuel my next words. "I was enraged. It took months to write that book and in an instant, I lost all that effort."
"And money," she adds. "I know you must have lost a lot."
"Money is money." I sigh. "Whatever I do get from the book is going directly to charity."
She rubs the back of her neck, the motion shifting the front of her dress, exposing a sliver of the side of her right breast. "That's generous of you."
"It feels right to me. It's a shitty situation but if something positive comes of it, I'll be happy."
"You're a good person."
I can't tell if that's surprise that laces her voice or not, so I take her words at face value. "I am a good person. I fucked up. I've regretted it since that night."
"It showed that you don't trust me." She takes a sip of wine; her lips leave a faint imprint of red lipstick on the glass. My cock stirs at the sight. I want that lipstick on me. On my lips, my jaw, my chest, and rimmed around my dick.
"I trust you, Sophia."
"No." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry but I don't believe you."
"I trust you more than anyone I've ever known."
