“Oh, it is. I’m sure you and your boys would adore it as much as the rest of my family.”
That is dangerously close to a “we” statement on a first date. What the hell did Olivia tell this guy about me?
Dessert arrives looking like it needs its own publicist. Something with caramelized pears and a delicate lattice of spun sugar that feels aggressively unnecessary.
Wesley looks pleased. “This place does subtlety well.”
Subtlety?
“So,” he says, folding his hands together like we’re about to negotiate a merger, “what are you looking for right now?”
Hell of a question. But all I can think of is the guy who makes my stomach flip.
“I’m…recalibrating,” I say carefully.
Wesley nods like that’s an acceptable corporate answer. “After a life change.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
He studies me in that polite, assessing way wealthy men do. Not invasive. Just curious enough to determine viability. “I’m not opposed to complexity.”
I almost laugh. “You say that like it’s a line item.”
“Everything is.” He gestures lightly with his fork. “You’re intelligent. Composed. Attractive. The situation doesn’t bother me.”
Thesituation. The twins. The single mother thing. The implied baggage.
Calling my sons a situation makes me grind my teeth. I know he means it positively, and that only pisses me off more.
But at his echelon, dating a single mom is taboo, unless she’s a wealthy divorcee. Then it’s iffy, but not verboten. But me? He’s letting me know he’s stepping down a station just to be here with me. It’s his polite way of telling me I’m lucky he’d even consider coming here with me, because I am social poison.
So as to not offend him, and thus upset whatever balance Olivia has with the Tisdale family, I choose my words carefully. “I think you deserve someone who’s excited to be here.”
His brow lifts slightly. “And you’re not.”
“You’re a lovely man, Wesley, but I’m not sure we would see eye to eye about things.”
He nods once, absorbing it like information rather than an insult. “How do I change your mind about that?”
His determination makes me smile. “I’m not sure you can.”
We sit in a brief, polite silence while the waiter hovers discreetly nearby. The spun sugar wilts slightly under the lights.
This is the kind of night I used to chase. But now I can’t even fake wanting it, and that realization feels terrifyingly permanent.
He leans toward me, just enough to be noticeable. Then he smirks. “I handle business mergers every day, Temperance. You have no idea how good I am at changing minds. Give me an hour, and I’ll change yours.”
Maybe there’s more to Wesley Tisdale the Third than I thought.
But I’ll never know. “Let’s finish dessert and see where the night takes us.”
He smiles handsomely and returns to his dessert, unaware of the fact that my night is going to end with a hot shower and my cozy bed.
12
DAMIAN
I see Perry on a date.
