Page 41 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

6:58 P.M.

Saturday

The last thing I placed in my overnight bag was a toothbrush. I stared into the open bag on my bed. One black satin nightgown, clean clothes for the morning, my favorite perfume, a matching bra and thong I hadn’t bought for comfort—everything I needed to spend the night with Dr. Elijah Valentine and leave his home satisfied.

That was the plan.

My phone vibrated on the nightstand. Malik’s father had sent a picture of him sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of chicken nuggets and fries. Malik’s bald fade was freshly brushed, and a wide smile covered his face. Beneath the photograph was a short message.

He ate good. Medicine at eight. I got it.

Relief eased through me. I had packed Malik’s medication, written the instructions twice, and texted another copy before his father picked him up yesterday. I’d called that morning and again after lunch. Malik was fine. He was being cared for, and if anything changed, his father knew how to reach me.

Tonight belonged to me.

The doorbell rang at exactly seven. I zipped my bag, carried it downstairs, and took one final look at myself in the mirror near the foyer. My red bandaged dress fell below my knees but opened enough at the front to reveal my legs when I walked. The neckline hugged my breasts without displaying everything I’d brought to the evening. I wore gold heels, matching hoops, and a thin gold chain that rested against my chest.

Business casual with a promise underneath. I opened the door. Elijah stood on the porch wearing a navy button-down with the first two buttons undone, khaki pants, Armani shoes, a timepiece on his wrist, a herringbone chain around his neck, shades across his eyes, and diamond stud earrings in his ears. His low fade was sharp, his goatee freshly lined, and the scent of his cologne reached me before he did.

His gaze moved down my body. Slowly, and I enjoyed every second of it.

“Good evening,” I said.

He raised his eyes to mine. “A good evening it is,” he murmured. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I stepped onto the porch. “You look good, too. Sexy, actually.”

He leaned in and kissed my cheek. His lips lingered close to my ear.

“Sexy, huh?”

“You heard me.” I blushed, and he kissed my cheek again, making me squirm.

“I’ve been thinking about tonight all week.”

My stomach tightened. “So have I.”

His eyes dropped to the overnight bag near my feet.

A smile touched his mouth.

“May I?”

“You may.”

He lifted the bag and offered me his other hand, pulling me closer to him.

“Let me have your keys.”

I set them in his palm and watched him lock my door, then reclaim my hand. Warmth spread through my palm when our fingers joined. There was something about the simplicity of holding his hand while he carried my overnight things that made the night feel different from the sexual arrangement I had planned.

I ignored that and walked with him to the car.

The restaurant sat on a quiet street in The Hill, its windows glowing beneath a striped awning. Inside, candles flickered on white-covered tables while low music mixed with conversation and the clink of wineglasses. Elijah had reserved a corner table with enough privacy to make the room feel smaller.

“You’ve been here before,” I said after we were seated.

“Several times.”