He opens the door, tilting his head as he catches my gaze. “Your seatbelt.”
“What?” I look at it. My head is such a mess right now. I huff out a laugh, heat creeping up my neck as I undo the seatbelt and climb out.
Matteo smiles, offering me his elbow to lead me to the front of the building. There isn’t a single window. No lights except the one above the metal door that looks like it’s a hole in a brick wall.
My stomach does a somersault and my heart flutters as I quickly look at him and then back to the door. Matteo pulls it open just as his car moves away from the curb.
This feels like the beginning of a horror movie.
“Okay, full stop.” My feet freeze in place, and I give a little tug on his elbow to get him to stop. I look at him, my heart pounding with either excitement or the possibility of letting him walk me to my death. “I’ve seen this movie before.”
“Are you always so dramatic?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. He’s holding the door open, enough for me to see it’s dimly lit inside. I can’t make anything else out.
“When I’m brought to a place that looks like it’s straight out of a scary movie, hell yes.”
He raises both eyebrows, looking at the building and then back at me. “Okay, I see your point. It’s a restaurant that’s reservation only. It’s not open to the public.”
That’s what they all say in situations like this.
Matteo lets out a sigh, pulling the door open farther. “Just trust me?”
I don’t move at first. My eyes scan his face, searching for any hint of malevolence. He stares back at me with the same relaxed face I’ve grown accustomed to studying.
“Fine, but you’re going in first.”
His responding laughter circles around me, like a warm cloak. He shakes his head at me, rolling his eyes before he steps inside first. He holds the door for me, and I hesitantly follow him.
We step into a small foyer area with dark marble floors. The walls are a deep, forest green with elegant landscape paintings wrapped in gold frames. Across from where we’re standing is a mahogany desk with a beautiful blonde woman standing on the other side of it, holding a tablet.
“Welcome to the Ivory Table.” She smiles brightly. “Are you Mr. Ford?”
He nods as he walks ahead of me. “I have a reservation for two at eight o’clock.”
“Right this way,” the hostess says as she leads us through the door behind her.
It opens into a room that matches the appearance of the foyer. It’s rich and moody in color and décor. The perimeter of the room is lined with private booths and the center has a dozen round tables perfectly arranged.
The dim lighting in the room comes from the light fixtures above. Except they aren’t electric lights. They’re all candles.
Matteo steps to the side, motioning for me to slide into the round booth first. I do, scooting across the seat as he slides in after me. He leaves about three feet between us with his body angled toward me.
“Is still water fine?”
“Yes,” Matteo says as he takes two menu boards from her, handing one to me. “That’s all I’ll be drinking tonight.”
I want to ask him why he isn’t ordering a mixed drink, but I stop myself. It’s rude and frankly, none of my business. Drinking doesn’t have to be a requirement for dinner.
Although, some alcohol would definitely take the edge off right now.
“And you, miss?”
“Water is fine for me too.”
She nods, pausing before rattling off the specials. I look down at the menu board, scanning the options as she disappears for a minute. We order our food when she returns with the water. I opt for a salad and the fish entrée and Matteo surprises me when he orders the same.
I take a sip of my water, and am suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to fill the silence that stretches between us.
“So, do you bring all of your dates here?”
