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I feel like my entire body is vibrating like a tuning fork when Mario the host escorts me through the restaurant. He's nice enough, but I feel a little bad. Dominic has sent him all over the place because of me, and I'm hoping this isn't a huge inconvenience.
"I know this must be weird for you," I find myself rambling. "Some random woman coming in the restaurant and now you're tasked with handing me over to a security guy so I can go to your boss' house. You're probably thinking, 'Man, I had plans for tonight!' I just wanted to apologize. I really appreciate all that Dominic is doing. I swear, I won't be underfoot for long."
Mario shakes his head, his face softening. He looks younger when he smiles, not nearly so intimidating. "Miss Linden, it's really fine. Boss is always generous and fair. If he asks me to do something, I'll do it. No questions asked. And you're not the strangest guest I've ever escorted."
My curiosity is piqued. "Oh? Really?"
He nods, "Mr. Falcone lives an interesting life, which I'm sure you're about to find out all on your own soon enough."
The host leaves me sitting in the empty dining room to wait for my driver, where I try my best to avoid the curious stares of the two servers who are closing the restaurant down. It gives me a moment to look over the place, and it's jarring to realize that I've never eaten somewhere this fancy in my entire life.
I haven't had the chance, really. For the most part, I've been living paycheck to paycheck while building my meager savings. This restaurant is worlds above the fast-food and bar-and-grill places that are my go-to, and my mouth waters a little as I read the descriptions on the menu.
It's also kind of funny because while the place is beautiful, it's not exactly the sleek, modern aesthetic I would have pictured for Dominic. It looks like it's been passed down from his father's generation, maybe even his grandfather's. It's stunning in a timeless way, but Dominic, with his perfectly trimmed salt-and-pepper hair and dark deep-set eyes, is modern and stylish. He seems like a man who would pick a restaurant that's more cutting-edge than this.
It all makes a little more sense when I rise from my seat just enough to see into the open-concept kitchen. Ah. There is all the cutting-edge technology I expected. The appliances are stainless steel, shiny and new, the sinks are big enough to fit a few people, and the backsplash is a pristine white with gray veining.
I can imagine Dominic in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and tie loose around his neck, preparing the night's special to show his chefs exactly what he wants. Or maybe his strong, broad shoulders would fill out a chef's coat himself. Each mini fantasy makes me feel hot all over.
I'm also still coming down from the adrenaline rush of speaking to Dominic and asking for his help. It's a miracle I managed to get any words out considering how much his appearance shook me up, but I got my story out and secured his protection from his son. Even if it comes with the strange, borderline inappropriate condition of staying at his house.
The front doors swing open, and Mario walks back in along with a tall, slender man who looks like he's in his late twenties. His light brown hair is neatly combed, and his green eyes are friendly.
"Ashton." Mario gestures to him, and the man dips his head politely. "He's your ride."
"Thank you again for everything," I tell him, giving the host a smile. "I'll see you soon I'm sure."
"You too, miss." Mario gives me a two-fingered salute. "Have a good night."
"You too!"
Ashton leads me out to the parking lot, and I immediately spot the car Dominic told me about. It's a dark sedan, the windows tinted, the exterior clean and polished. "Daisy, right?" he asks.
"Yep." I shake his hand, and he opens the passenger-side door for me. "And you're Ashton."
"I work for Mr. Falcone," he says, gesturing for me to slide in. "Call me Ash, please. Everyone does."
"Okay." I offer him a smile that I hope is confident, but to be honest, I'm exhausted, both emotionally and physically. I can't imagine how I must look right now. Probably like a mess.
Ashton shuts the door and walks around the car to the driver's seat, climbing in behind the wheel. "Dominic explained the situation to me," he tells me as he starts the engine. "So I'm going to be the one looking after you until he gets home. Is that alright?"
"That's perfect." I buckle my seatbelt and try not to let it show how nervous I am. "But tell your boss that this isn't necessary. I'm sure I can hide out at my apartment and you guys can just watch outside from the car or something..."
Ashton laughs, a low chuckle as he pulls out of the parking lot. "Miss Linden, Dominic Falcone doesn't have guests. He doesn't have company. The fact that he's offering to shelter you at his personal residence is a testament to how much he cares. Please respect that."
"I know, I do," I admit. "It's just that I'm not used to charity. I mean, this is a huge thing he's doing for me."
"And trust me, he's not doing it lightly. Don't think of it as charity. Think of it as Dominic Falcone extending an olive branch because of what his son has done. That and he's always been very protective of women, so you were already in his good graces before you even walked in the door."
It's a lovely thought, one that makes my heart flutter. Ashton almost makes it sound like destiny, even if that's not what he's trying to convey. I chew at my lip and lean back in the luxurious leather seat, looking up at the roof of the car. "Ashton, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure. Anything."
"Is...is Dominic an unusual guy?" I feel silly asking, but Ashton doesn't laugh. "I mean, is he prone to taking in strangers and helping them out like this?"
"Well, normally, no." Ashton's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Normally, Dominic keeps people at a distance. Not a lot of people know him very well, personally. And while he's endlessly powerful in the circles his family has always run in, he's actually not as ruthless as you might think."
"Huh," I say, flipping on the heated seat and closing my eyes to try and rest during the hour-long drive. "That's funny. I guess I never really thought of him as ruthless at all."
