“Chicken pasta,” he replies, apparently missing the sarcasm in my voice. “And a glass of Sav. I hope that was okay.”
Be nice, Aurelia. He was genuinely trying to help. I decide not to say anything. The wine might help me relax anyway.
“You look nice today,” he says, leaning back. His gaze skims down me, lingering briefly on my breasts before returning to my face. Is he disappointed that the wrapover top isn’t showing my cleavage? I’m annoyed to think that’s probably the reason he liked the top all along.
“You too,” I admit. He’s wearing a navy suit, tight fitting, that looks good on him. He’s had his hair cut. He’s clean shaven. He’s a really good-looking guy.
Why am I secretly pleased that Luke is two inches taller?
“How have you been?” I ask politely.
We chat for a while about our jobs. He was promoted recently, and he spends a while explaining what his new post involves. I understand only about a third of what he’s saying asI don’t have a financial brain, but I nod and try to relax as I sip my wine.
“So,” he says eventually, “I have to say, I’m surprised you contacted me.”
My eyebrows rise. “I thought that was the purpose of sending the roses?”
His eyebrows match mine. “What roses?”
My mouth opens, but no words come out. Shit. He didn’t send them?
He looks a mixture of amused and annoyed. “Someone else sent you flowers?”
“Ah… yeah. They lost the card, and I assumed they were from you because you’d messaged me.”
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he observes me thoughtfully for a moment, leaning back in his chair, his arm hooked over the back, turning his wine glass in the fingers of his other hand.
I also lean back, puzzled. Who sent the flowers, then? I can’t think of anyone. I must have a secret admirer!
Dom’s gaze slides past me for a moment, then returns to my face. “Maybe he sent them.”
“Luke? I don’t think so.”
“Why not? He obviously has a thing about you.”
I snort. “He really doesn’t. I only met him yesterday, and I know he’s minutes away from strangling me. I’m sure you can associate with that.” I give him a sweet smile.
His lips curve up, but he’s saved from replying as our food turns up.
I pick through the pasta. It’s tasty enough, but I’m not in the mood.
“What’s up?” Dom asks.
I sigh. “I wish I hadn’t suggested this.”
“Why?”
“I’m embarrassed. I thought you sent the flowers because you wanted to see me again.”
“I should have sent them,” he says. “I wish I had. I did want to see you. I’ve been pining.”
I give him a wry look. “You have not.”
“Of course I have.” He frowns. “You were the love of my life, Aurelia. You broke my heart when you walked away.”
My stomach flips. “We both walked. I don’t remember you begging me to stay.”
He pokes listlessly at his risotto, then drops the fork and looks me in the eyes. “I was angry and frustrated. It didn’t mean I wanted it to be over.”
