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But no. Michelle is a great friend, always positive and encouraging.
Still, I’m just me.
I’m not confident that’s enough.
Chapter 9
Mason
Piccolo is one of my favorite restaurants. When I get my own restaurant up and running, I want a lot of it to be done the way it’s done here. I won’t copy it, of course. But everything here is smooth like clockwork. I’ve never eaten here where the service wasn’t good, food wasn’t on time, and I didn’t have a great night.
I want my place to have the same feel to it. I want the same level of professionalism.
I check the time. I was here early, but at this point, Michelle is running a little late. I tug at my tie. I hate wearing suits, and the tie strangles me, but this place isn’t the kind of place I can wear jeans to.
Everything about the auction was fancy, and I’m keeping up with the trend. I want to make sure Michelle gets her money’s worth after she bought me at the auction.
God, it sounds so fucked up to say sheboughtme. She bought the date with me. I should remember to word it that way when we talk so I don’t sound stupid.
I tug at my tie again and spin the empty wine glass around and around while I wait.
Someone comes into the dining room, and I look up. When my eyes fall on her, my heart skips a beat, and for a second, I swear I stop breathing. I haven’t seen her since that night we spent together a month ago.
Natalie.
She looks around the dining room, searching for someone. Who’s she here with? The idea that she’s meeting a man makes me feel…weird. I have no right to be jealous—she doesn’t belong to me in any way—but knowing she might be here with someone stops me from going to her.
When her eyes fall on me, she freezes. She has a deer-in-headlights look on her face. She fumbles with her phone, glancing down at the screen. When a server passes her, she touches his arm and speaks to him.
The server gestures in my direction and they come to me, Natalie following behind. When she stands in front of me, she’s a vision, and apparition. An Aphrodite. The teal dress she wears compliments her fair skin and she wears her blonde hair up, pinned in a loose twist against her head. Strands have escaped and brush her shoulders. The smokey eyeshadow around her eyes make them look impossibly large and her cheeks are a rosy red.
“You’re Mason,” she says in a breathy voice.
“I am.”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t think it was thesameMason. When Michelle—”
“You know Michelle?” I ask.
“She’s my boss,” Natalie says. “And my friend. She’s sick with a stomach bug and can’t get out of bed, so she asked me to come on this date instead. With you.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe the odds. Fate has a fun sense of humor.
“Natalie,” I say.
She swallows hard and purses her lips. I jolt into action, shaking off the daze I’m under and walk around the small table to pull out a chair for her. Her dress has a halter top, the material dipping low, and with her hair up, it shows off an incredible back. Her skin is smooth and flawless and I want to touch her. My cock stirs in my pants but I force away the lust that threatens to show itself. Tonight isn’t about that. She glances over her shoulder at me and I want to grab her and kiss her.
I want to do all kinds of nasty things to her.
What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s magnetic.
She hesitates before she sits down. “Thanks,” she says politely.
When I’m seated across from her, I can’t stop staring.
“What?” she asks, looking self-conscious.
“You look incredible,” I say.
