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“You’re serious about this.” Donovan made the words a statement rather than a question. He climbed out of Rose’s cobalt-blue BMW and closed the passenger-side door. He stood beside the car, staring across the parking lot at The Cheese Quartet.
“Of course, I’m serious.” Rose studied her companion in amusement. Why hadn’t he believed her when she’d told him she was taking him to a pizzeria? She tossed a grin at Donovan over her shoulder as she led him to the restaurant’s entrance.
“A pizzeria.” Donovan sounded disbelieving.
“It’s not just any pizzeria.” Rose spread her arms. “It’s The Cheese Quartet. They have fabulous pizza.”
“I’m sure they do.” Donovan still sounded dubious.
Rose mounted the sidewalk. Donovan’s arm reached from behind her to pull open the entrance door. She looked up to thank him, then looked away before she could get lost in his wicked hazel gaze.
Minutes later, Rose trailed their host to a booth in a quiet section of the restaurant. Donovan followed her. She gazed around the crowded dining area. The wood trim framed stenciled musical notes interspersed with vibrant, stylized sketches of musicians and singers who were from Ohio, including John Legend, Macy Gray and Chrissie Hynde. The young man offered them menus, then left them on their own.
“I’m giving you fair warning—I don’t like a lot of toppings on my pizza.” Rose opened the menu to view her choices.
“I do.” Donovan didn’t sound prepared to back down.
Rose watched him closely. “What do you think about this place?”
“It’s nice.” He took in the decor with an expression of appreciation. “But it’s not very romantic.”
“I told you, this isn’t a date.”
“I got that impression when you showed up at my house in your denim shorts and strappy sandals.” The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice made her body overheat.
Rose broke eye contact and dived back into her menu. It hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d been here several months prior. “You would’ve understood this was just a celebration if you’d listened when I explained that over the phone last night.”
“Spoken like a true girlfriend.” His voice rumbled with laughter. “This just isn’t what I imagined when you invited me to dinner.”
“What had you expected?” Rose looked up. She was really curious.
“Something more upscale. You’re too elegant for a pizza joint.”
Rose stilled. “Is that the way you see me—elegant, cool, untouchable?”
“I believe I showed you a couple of weeks ago that I find you anything but untouchable.” His voice lowered until its sound strummed the muscles of her lower abdomen. Steam swirled in his hazel eyes.
Rose forced herself to maintain eye contact. “Then why can’t you picture me eating pizza?”
“I guess I need to get to know you better.”
How do we always end up right back there?
Rose started to reply when a familiar voice called her name.
“Rose, I thought that was you. What a coincidence.” Maxine materialized beside their booth with an attractive man.
Panic! “Maxine, what are you doing here?”
“Isiah and I came to have dinner. When I saw you, we headed straight for your table.” Her friend gestured toward the tall, handsome man standing behind her. “Rose Beharie, my fiancé
, Isiah Russell. Isiah, Rose is one of the legal ladies I have dinner with once a month.”
Isiah stepped forward to offer Rose his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Rose. Maxine has told me a lot about her law school friends.”
Rose swallowed her dread. “It’s very nice to meet you, Isiah.”
Rose sent a distressed look in Donovan’s direction. She read the message in his eyes: See? Maxine told her fiancé all about you, but I didn’t know she existed.
