When we land, a sparkling white limo is waiting on the tarmac.Holy moly.I’ve never been inside a limo before, not even for my prom. Katt couldn’t go because of a photoshoot in Budapest, and my parents didn’t want to pay for such a “wasteful extravagance,” although what they really objected to was spending money onme.
My default mode clicks on:Don’t let people spend money on me that they don’t have to.It’s one I acquired from the old, familiar guilt about the medical costs of saving my life after I developed my seafood allergy.
Then I shake my head. Whyshouldn’tmoney be spent on me? Whyshouldn’tJosh splurge to make us happy? It isn’t a wasteful extravagance if it’s something he can afford and we both enjoy it.I’m worthy of the good things in life, too, dammit!
I take Josh’s hand. He gives me a curious look.
“Thank you.” I smile. “You planned everything perfectly.”
He smiles back, then presses a soft kiss on my forehead. “My pleasure.”
A uniformed chauffeur opens the door, and we climb in. Josh pulls out a bottle of Dom from a silver ice bucket.
“Did you ever work as a bartender?” I ask, admiring the expert way he pops the cork and pours two flutes.
He laughs. “No. Why?”
“You’re so good at opening the bottle, but at the same time I can’t picture you working part-time in school.”
He snorts with amusement. “I didn’t grow up as spoiled as you think. Granted, the family’s well off, but I was expected to do chores and get a part-time job in high school. Akiko said it’d be good for me to learn the value of honest work.”
“I always knew I liked her.”
“My boss was heartbroken when I quit. Apparently their sales plunged after I left.”
“Where did you work?”
“Starbucks.”
I chuckle softly. I can picture girls coming by to order drinks, hoping to chat with the handsome barista. Maybe even create their own meet-cute moment.
“To the most beautiful woman I know,” he says.
My face warms with pleasure. “To the most wonderful manIknow.”
We clink glasses. I start to take a sip, then stop. The bubbly wine’s scent stings my nose like vinegar. But it’s Dom. How can that be? I try again, but—just can’t. I put the glass down, but Josh has already taken a sip of his.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It just smells a little off to me.”
He raises the glass to his nose and sniffs. “Seems okay.”
I frown. “Weird. But it might just be my nerves.”
“Still nervous?”
“A little. I keep thinking I’m ready for tonight, but then feel a little scared when I think about what Lareina has planned for me. I just have no idea what’s going to be involved.”
He squeezes my hand comfortingly. “It’ll be something good. She swears you’ll get my money’s worth.”
My lips twitch. That’s something she’d say.
“And you’d better, because I want to spoil you rotten. You’ve been working hard, and I feel a little guilty that you go home andcook most days.” He frowns a little, and I run my fingertips along the furrowed spot soothingly.
“But I enjoy feeding you. You’re such an appreciative eater.” I’m valued at work, but the efforts I’ve made in my personal life have either gone unnoticed or been belittled by my family. He probably doesn’t understand what his genuine recognition and thanks do to me, but I simply adore the way his eyes light up with delight or how hot he is when he’s in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled to help clean up.
I brush my lips over his cheek, then smile when the tips of his ears redden. “So what are you going to do? Join me?” As soon as the question is asked, I realize how ridiculous it sounds. He already looks perfect. His hair is slicked back, revealing his smooth forehead. His skin is absolutely flawless. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s wearing concealer—there isn’t a single blemish on his face.
