Page 19 of Devil's Secret

Page List
Font Size:

“If you wanted to test me, there are easier ways. A lunch meeting. Coffee with a client. Ways that don’t involve sending a dress to my apartment and bringing me to what is very obviously your restaurant on a Friday night.”

The waiter returns with the wine.

I watch him open the bottle, pour the first taste, then hand me the glass. I go through the motions—lift, taste, nod. Habit. Ritual. A way to keep the room from thinking too hard about what it’s seeing.

When we’re alone again, I set the glass down. “And your point?”

“My point is that this isn’t just about galas.” She holds my gaze. “Either you’re testing something else, or you made a decision that wasn’t entirely strategic. One that’s almost… extracurricular.”

That lands.

Not because she’s wrong. Because she’s close.

Neither of us speaks.

Then I laugh.

Her brows lift a fraction. “What?”

“Nothing.” I pick up my wine glass. “You’re more observant than I gave you credit for.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No. I didn’t.”

I take a sip of wine. Let the silence build.

“You’re right,” I say finally. “This isn’t purely strategic. But that doesn’t mean it’s irrational.”

“Then what is it?”

“Curiosity,” I say. “You’re an unusual variable. I’m assessing how you operate outside the office.”

“And the dress? The wine? The candlelight?”

“Atmosphere.”

“That’s still an excuse.”

“Maybe.” I set down my glass. “Though I notice you’re not complaining about the dress.”

“It’s a nice dress.”

“It is. You wear it well.” I let the compliment land. “The hair is different too.”

Her hand moves involuntarily toward it, then stops. “It seemed appropriate for the setting.”

“Did you spend time deciding? Considering which style would be most strategic?”

Now she does flush. Just slightly. A hint of pink beneath the carefully applied makeup.

“That’s not?—”

“Because that would be an emotional choice, wouldn’t it? Not a logical one. Wanting to look a certain way for a certain context.” I lean back in my chair. “Almost... extracurricular.”

She stares at me.

Then, slowly, her lips curve into an almost-smile.