Dominic’s eyes scan over my outfit, a flowy, short summer dress. My hair is half down, half up and curled, and my make-up is somewhere between Housekeeping Mila and Ring Girl Mila.
“You look pretty,” he says. The words are dry, but they seem to just roll off his tongue. Like he means them, but isn’t good at complimenting people.
“Thanks,” I say, and we follow the waitress to the table. As we walk, Dominic puts his hand on the small of my back, sending heat through my entire body.
Jesus, I need to get a hold of myself.
Once we are sitting down with food and drinks ordered, he looks at me. His stare is intense. I know it means he’s ready to get down to business.
“Alright, let’s get started then,” I say.
“Why don’t you ever do your hair that way when you work at the house?” he asks, throwing me completely off route.
“What?” I ask.
“In all the time you’ve worked for me, I’ve never seen your hair like that,” he says.
“I don’t usually spend an hour doing my hair when I’m going to be scrubbing floors,” I tell him, taking a sip of water.
“You spent an hour doing your hair?” he asks, and my eyes widen.
“Can we just…talk about…”
“Right. Of course,” he nods, taking a breath and steepling his hands on the table. “Let’s go over the dos and don’ts first,” he says.
“Okay,” I agree.
“If you haven’t realized, I live a public life. Which means people are always watching me. To make this convincing, we are going to have to be seen together. A lot.”
“Okay. That shouldn’t be too hard since I work at your house, and I see you in the evening at my night jobs.”
“Right. But we’re going to need to go on dates. Dinners, drinks, shows if you’re into that sort of thing,” he says. He unwraps his silverware from the cloth napkin as the waitress sets down lobster and spinach queso with tortilla chips.
“Shows?” I ask, reaching for a chip.
“Sure. I can get tickets for the symphony if you’d like. Or the ballet.”
“The ballet?” I ask.
He looks at me. “If you’d like. We just have to make it obvious that we are together, serious, and exclusive.”
“Right,” I say.
“That includes affection,” he says. He struggles on the last word, and I smile.
“Affection?” I ask.
“You know, kissing. Holding hands…stuff like that,” he clears his throat and reaches for his Old Fashioned.
“Well, thisisgetting serious, isn’t it?” I tease.
Dominic resumes his normal grumpy face and dodges my banter. “You will have to meet my father. Not only will you have to convince him we are a real couple, but you’re also going to have to charm him. He gets off on belittling me, so he’s definitely going to be judgmental about who I am with.”
“Brownie points with your father, got it,” I say.
He ignores that. “Now let’s talk about the don’ts. Our physical relationship is public only. Behind closed doors, it will be civil and nothing more.”
“I agree with that,” I tell him. And I do. The last thing I need is for things to be complicated. Or more complicated, I should say.
