“No, first time. I’ve always wanted to. The food’s supposed to be amazing.”
“It is,” he says after a pause. “But I’ll let you be the judge tonight. Thanks for coming, by the way. I don’t think I could handle this guy alone.”
His tone softens, and something warm curls in my chest.
“You’re welcome, Henry.” I can’t help the small smile that escapes me — or the way his name feels on my tongue.
At the restaurant, he offers a steadying hand on my lower back as we’re ushered inside. The gesture is unexpected, almost tender.
“Table for Mr Chase,” he tells the hostess — tall, blonde, beautiful. Her smile is syrupy sweet. My eyes roll before I can stop them. Of course she’shis type.
Dinner goes smoothly. I watch Henry in work mode — sharp, commanding, magnetic. He manages to let the client feel brilliant while quietly pulling every string. It’s impressive, really.
By the time Mr. Kipham — complete with cowboy hat and Bond-villain charm — leaves, contract signed, I can’t help laughing.
“Sorry, but that guy was something else.”
“He was… unique,” Henry says, lips twitching. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I can grab the train.”
He glances at my heels again. “In those? Not a chance.”
There’s no arguing with him.
Once in the car, silence settles again — comfortable, surprisingly. Until:
“So, this speed dating thing,” he says casually, eyes on the road. “You’re hoping to meet someone?”
I laugh, startled. “God, no. Why do you ask?”
He shifts in his seat. “Just… curious.” The word sounds foreign on his tongue.
“Wasyour‘friend’ a date?” I shoot back before I can stop myself.
“No,” he says too quickly, and I bite back a smile.
We fall quiet again, until I blurt, “I don’t really date anymore. Gave up about a year ago.”
He glances at me. “Bad experience?”
“Yeah. Dated a guy for a year. Found out I was the other woman — he already had a girlfriend.”
Henry’s knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. “What a dick,” he growls. “Some men don’t know how good they have it.”
My chest tightens. I can’t tell if he’s talking about Eli… or something else entirely.
“It’s fine,” I say softly. “It was a long time ago. I’m just focusing on work now.”
“You don’t have to say that for my benefit,” he mutters, and I catch the ghost of a smirk.
“What about you?” I ask. “You dating anyone?”
He exhales slowly. “No. I’ve got other things on my plate right now.”
Before I can ask what that means, he pulls the handbrake. My flat looms outside the window—
“Thanks for tonight, Matilda,” he says quietly.
