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After we were out into the garage, we got into the back seat of his car and hit the road. Two cars followed behind us, and another two were in the front. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bosco decided to add two tanks to his ranks.
“Can I make a request?”
He was looking out the window, but he pulled his gaze away to look at me. “Always.”
“Can we not shut down the restaurant?”
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “Still not a fan?”
“I think it’s obnoxious to ruin other people’s nights just because you think you’re more important than everyone else.”
“I am more important.” He said it without apology, not caring what I thought of the statement. “And you’re even more important than me.”
“Even if that were true, I don’t want to do that.” I knew I had a lot of power in this relationship now that I had his heart in my palm. I could make demands that would always be met. “So we aren’t clearing out the restaurant.”
He wore the same gaze, neither angry nor impressed. Finally, he gave a subtle nod. “Whatever you want, Beautiful.” He looked out the window again.
I won the round but didn’t gloat. I wasn’t looking forward to displaying a black eye in a crowded restaurant, but I didn’t care what anyone thought of us. I did my best to cover it with makeup, but there was no amount of foundation that could hide the bright purple color completely surrounding my eye. That man hit me with considerable force, making the inside of my eye darker than a black hole.
We pulled up to the restaurant and walked inside, my hand tucked inside Bosco’s. All he did was look at the man standing at the podium, and he immediately got the service he wanted. Everyone else waiting for a table was ignored.
“Shall I clear out the restaurant, sir?”
“Unnecessary. Just a private table please.”
We were immediately guided to the corner where we had some space from everyone else. Bosco pulled out my chair for me then sat across from me. We were near one of the windows, and just outside I could see one of Bosco’s cars parked there, so they could keep an eye on the man who paid their bills.
Bosco ordered a bottle of wine for the table.
“You don’t have to order Barsetti wine every time because of me.”
He looked at his menu. “I realize that. I genuinely enjoy it.” As if he’d finished his selections, he shut the menu. “I respect the harvest they produce every year. Other wineries sometimes compromise on quality to meet demand, but the Barsettis never do. They pride themselves on what they do, because legacy and respect are more important than money.”
It was nice to hear a compliment about my family for once. “You described my father and uncle perfectly.”
“They’re good business owners—regardless of what their product is.” He sat perfectly upright in his chair then stared at me openly, his favorite pastime.
I looked at my menu.
“What are you getting?”
“Lasagna. You?”
“Caprese salad with chicken.”
I made a gagging noise. “We’re at dinner. Get something good.”
“That is good.”
“Uh, no. I’m the one who should be eating a salad, and hell no, that’s not gonna happen.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “You do not need to eat a salad.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just mean usually women are the ones who order lame stuff like that. Come on, we’re out on a date. Consider it to be your cheat day.”
He smiled again, amused by my stance. “Then what do you suggest? How about the chicken with—”
“Spaghetti. Get the spaghetti.”
He chuckled. “Alright.”
“Good. You’re gonna look sexy as hell when we get home regardless.”
He must have loved everything I said in that sentence because his smile vanished and his eyes turned intense.
The waiter came by and took our order before he disappeared again. Our table had a vase with a single red rose and a white candle that flickered. The other tables were filled with couples of all different ages, enjoying their time out. There was no other man in that restaurant who could compare to Bosco. But then again, there was no other man in the world who could compare to him. When I started seeing someone else, I would have a hard time not looking back on these memories, remembering times like these.
Bosco kept watching me, entertained by my expression just as other people were entertained by TV. He wasn’t wearing his poker face like he did around everyone else. This look was completely transparent—just intense.
I should be used to the stare by now, but I wasn’t. No man had ever looked at me that way before, like he owned me in a way no one else ever would. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but in his eyes. We were surrounded by people, but it seemed like I was the only woman in the room. He was immune to Ruby’s charms because he was obsessed with mine.
