He licks his lips. “You are breathtaking. Am I still allowed to call you Cupcake?”
I debate my answer before slowly nodding. He doesn’t outwardly react, but his Adam’s apple bobs.
The waitstaff is all dressed in black pants, black aprons, and white button-down shirts. Our waiter approaches with a bottle of pinot grigio.
“Wine, miss?”
I nod. “Yes, please.”
He fills the wineglass halfway, then proceeds to fill my water glass from a silver pitcher.
“Can I interest you in any appetizers?”
Dayton waits for me to answer.
My eyes drop down to the leather menu. “Can we try the oysters and the truffle-stuffed mushrooms?”
“Certainly.” He walks away.
I grab my wineglass, taking a slow sip. It’s light and crisp, and I’m sure it costs a pretty penny. Dayton is watching me, his expression unreadable.
“So, what have you been up to for the last ten years?” I ask.
He chuckles, leaning back against his chair. He’s so massive. His presence is overwhelming. I keep having flashbacks of his body on top of me in his apartment in Miami. The memory of his muscular shoulders flexing in the lamp light makes my toes curl. I loved feeling the heavy weight of him.
“Sad to say, most of the last decade for me has been spent in college and building my investment business. I haven’t traveled for pleasure, only for work. I did have a girlfriend in college, but we broke up right after graduation, when I moved to New York.”
“How long were you together?”
“My junior and senior years.”
“What was her name?” I already know the answer to this, but I don’t want him to know I cyberstalked her.
She was, of course, stunningly beautiful. Not the same kind of striking beauty as Noelle. Anna was dark-haired and softer-looking with round cheeks, the kind of woman most men would call wifey material and take home to meet their grandmothers.
“Anna.”
I nod. “So, why did you break up?”
“I was moving. She had another year in college. I didn’t see any reason to keep dating long distance.”
“What’s another year if you’re in love?”
He studies me for a moment. I squirm in my seat.
“If you’re in love, a year is nothing.”
“So, you didn’t love her?”
He shakes his head.
“Then why were you with her for two years?”
The waiter approaches and deposits the oysters and truffle-stuffed mushrooms on the table, along with two small plates. He refills both of our wineglasses.
“I was trying to get over someone else,” Dayton says.
My hand halts above the tray of oysters. I blink at him, wondering who he’s talking about. There’s a mystery third girl, someone he must have met in college before Anna.
