I grab my unfinished bottle of wine as he leads me to a booth made for four, where he sits across from me. Plopping down, I set the bottle on the table and lean back against the comfy faux leather. Grayson shrugs off his suit jacket, and I glance at him for a moment before turning away.
Grayson picks up the wine and motions it to me. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a wine drinker.”
“My dad taught my cousin and me about wine when I turned twelve. The events we went to were boring, and it was his unusual way of entertaining us.” I snatch the bottle from him and pour drinks for both of us into the new glasses on the table. “I try not to drink it often with my food since I like to enjoy a glass now and then while I read.”
“My parents would only let us color on the kids’ menu.” There’s humor behind his voice, and I chance a glance toward him.
Tilting my head, I take a sip of the delicious liquid. It’s the first time he’s talked about his parents without me needing to ask. “Let’s just say, my family’s a little different than most.”
Grayson smiles again and gives me a once-over. I shift, feeling slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, and quickly change the subject.
“Did you happen to order something that pairs well with the wine?”
“You tell me, Ms. Haywood.”
Charles places a plate of prime steak frites in front of me, and the smell instantly makes my mouth water. The peppercorn sauce on the side is the final perfect touch.
It’s exactly what I was going to order.
I’m not sure why I’m surprised. The man’s a chef, he has to have a knack for what people may want to order.
“Thank you, Charles,” Grayson says.
“Of course, Mr. Hayes.”
My eyes move to his. “You’re not having anything?”
He shakes his head. “I already ate. Go ahead and eat while I continue sipping this great wine.”
Sitting up straighter, I tell him my one request. “Can you at least not stare at me while I eat?”
His deep chuckle catches me off guard, almost making me smile.
Almost.
After his eyes leave me, I dig into the steak and moan at the taste. I don’t mean to, but it’s cooked exactly right, and I haven’t eaten since three p.m.
My gaze flicks upward to see Grayson staring at me with his wineglass halfway to his lips. The look in his eyes feels all too familiar, and goose bumps break along my skin.
“Please stop staring at me.”
He clears his throat and looks away again. “Sorry.”
As I keep eating, I start to feel awkward halfway through the meal. Dropping my silverware, I speak. “All right, I can’t do this. Just talk to me.” His eyes meet mine. “Everything’s off the record, but please break the silence, and for heaven’s sake, call me Emma until I leave to walk to my dorm.”
He sets his wineglass down. “Fine, Emma. What do you want to talk about?”
“What were you here for?”
“A quick business dinner with some old associates, that turned into drinks.” Nodding, I take another bite of my steak. “Who stood you up?”
I stop chewing and glance down at my plate. Just when I was starting to forget… “People I barely know.”
“Emma…”
Sagging against the booth, I continue to avert my gaze. “By some coworkers, okay?”
He scoffs. “Fucking assholes.”
