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He’s standing –waiting- by his fancy car outside my apartment, hands in his suit pockets, emanating every single cent of a billion dollars. I can’t help but notice the fabric of the suit he’s so elegantly donning, a rich blend of fine wool and silk in a deep navy color. Tailored specifically to August’s broad build, with stylish cufflinks and a tall collar.
Holy crap, that suit probably costs an entire year of my salary.
“You look amazing,” the doctor remarks smoothly when I emerge from my apartment building. I can’t help myself – I blush at his confidently delivered compliment.
I do feel good about what I’m wearing. I should – itisthe nicest dress in my wardrobe. It’s a deep burgundy, my favorite color. It’s always a go-to. The neckline modestly frames my collarbone, while delicate lace adorns my shoulders and gracefully extends to form a sheer back panel, giving it a classy vibe. I like how it shows off my skin without being too revealing or out there. I’ve decided on a satin belt that cinches the fabric of the dress at my waist, which emphasizes my figure. If I am heading out for a fancy dinner, then I want to flaunt it and show what I’ve got. I must say, it feels so damn good to take the time to put on a face of makeup and have a chance to slip into this dress for the evening.
It’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve dressed up. I seem to only wear my hospital cleaner’s uniform nowadays.
“I know I look amazing,” I reply to August with a confident flick of my hair as I descend the stairs and reach his parked car. “But I don’t need to hear it from you, of all people.”
“Oh,cocky,” he replies, gracefully and chivalrously opening the passenger door for me. “That seems to be the mood for tonight. Shall we get going?”
“Yes,” I retort, “let’s go before you do something crazy like give me another compliment.”
* * *
As Diana reminded me back in the hospital staff room, it has been a hell of a long time since I’ve been out to dinner, and I have certainly never been to a restaurant likethisone before. I’m impressed. The feeling reminds me of when I used to be awed by everythingPenmayneas a teenager.
Don’t fall for his tricks again just because he has money, Emma.
I stay silent and refuse to acknowledge how truly bowled over I am. I mean, I’ve not even heard of this restaurant before – it’s that exclusive.
How can I have lived in this city for years and not heard of this place? It really must be something else.
Greeted at the door by a polite doorman who double-checks August’s reservation in a slick leather-bound book, we descend a dark staircase that spirals underground. It’s like we are plunging from the urban hustle and bustle of the city into an intimate subterranean world. Plush velvet drapes create an air of mystery. It feels so elite down here. I kinda want to hold August’s hand as we head down the staircase for reassurance, but I successfully clench myself back.
Don’t give in to him, Emma, no matter how delightfully fancy the restaurant is.
The restaurant is a dimly lit inviting cavern of a place. It’s dripping with pure opulence in here. The ceiling vaults up like some kind of old European church. Chandeliers hang high. The walls are a dark mahogany, dressed in beautiful shadowy contemporary paintings. The individual tables are draped with crisp white linen and are spaced far enough apart to give everyone an intimate independence. The room is quiet, with only a subdued level of respectful conversation as the sole source of noise.
Well, it’s a lot different from the kind of takeout places I frequent after a long night shift.
“This is cool,” I whisper to August.
He turns to me. “Cool?”
“I don’t really have the words for it,” I reply, still whispering. I feel like I’m not allowed to make any noise in this place.
The doctor chuckles sweetly at my awkwardness and gently guides me towards our reserved table with a gesture of his hand.
“Yeah, I guess it is prettycoolin here,” he remarks. “Good choice of word.”
As I sit down opposite him, I am once again overtaken by a sense of his wealth and power. I’ve clearly forgotten how rich and commanding the Penmaynes truly are in all our years apart, but it’s dawning on me again.
This man truly belongs to another world...
“Have you been here before?” I ask August.
“First time, actually,” he replies. “A chef friend of mine recommended this place.”
“And is this chef friend of yours anyone super famous that I might know about?”
“Potentially.”
“Of course.”
“I’m glad I managed to make a reservation here,” August says. “Apparently, there is a two-thousand-long waitlist.”
