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I almost sigh with relief when the elevator finally dings and opens up into what has to be the fanciest restaurant I’ve ever seen.
It’s so fancy that there are private alcoves overlooking the ocean, and of course, that’s where the maîtred’—because this place is way too fancy for him to simply be referred to as a waiter—leads us.
Dane holds out my chair and pushes it up under me as I sit—like a true gentleman. No guy has ever done anything like this for me before. Of course, that could be due in part to the fact that I’ve never dated, and the only guys I’ve ever hung out with have been classmates from school when we were playing volleyball in teams on the beach.
Dane’s hand brushes over my bare shoulder before he steps away and smoothly sits in his own seat opposite me.
I glance out the floor-to-ceiling window at the magnificent view of the Atlantic. It’s the most stunning view I’ve ever seen.
“Wow,” I breathe, “it’s beautiful.” I’ve always loved the ocean. When I was little, Mom used to call me her little mermaid because I’d taken to swimming at such a young age and had spent every spare moment I could in the water.
“Breathtaking,” his deep voice rumbles, but when I look back at him, he’s looking at me—not the ocean.
I feel the flush creeping up my cheeks, but I’m saved from any awkwardness when the waiter comes to take our orders.
Dane never takes his eyes off of me as he orders for both of us. He orders a bottle of what sounds like some expensive type of wine and something in a language I don’t recognize.
“I ordered a sampler,” Dane tells me as the waiter walks away. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Oh,” I say, “yes, that’s fine. Thanks.” I find that I actually mean it. While I’d usually be offended if a guy was pompous enough to order for me without taking my opinion into consideration, I realize that Dane doing it is actually a show of kindness. No doubt the menu was in another language, and I wouldn’t have had a clue what I was reading—much less what to order.
Dane’s green eyes are trailing over my face and the exposed skin of my shoulders before taking in the corseted bodice of the red dress. I feel nervous and on display under his intense scrutiny, and I knot my hands together in my lap to keep them from shaking.
How does this work? Am I supposed to be the one to jump right in with my proposal? I have no idea, but I have to break the silence. I can’t take him just staring at me like that.
“So, um, about the building,” I begin.
His green eyes flick back up to look directly into mine as he sits back in his seat.
The waiter comes back bearing a bottle of wine and two glasses before I get to continue.
He waits for Dane to taste the wine and nod his head in approval before he pours us each a glass.
I’m staring at the glass set before me in astonishment. I’m only eighteen. I’m too young to legally drink, and the waiter hasn’t asked for my ID or anything.
When the waiter leaves, I look up to find Dane watching me again.
“I’m only eighteen,” I remind him.
“Yes, I remember, but you’re with me right now, and there are certain perks to that,” he says, not batting an eyelash as he takes a sip of his wine, hie eyes regarding me half humorously, half challengingly.
I raise my head and then reach out my hand to take a tentative sip of the wine.
It’s not awful, but it’s not the best thing I’ve ever tasted either. It’s smooth as it goes down, though, and I feel the warmth of it as it begins to spread throughout my limbs.
I look up to see him watching me carefully. My cheeks flush again at the way he gazes at me as if he can see right through me.
“I believe you were going to tell me your proposal,” he prompts me.
I’m relieved to get back to the business at hand.
“Oh, um, yes,” I fidget in my chair nervously. “Couldn’t you just renovate the building to make it look like your other ones if that’s what it’s all about? You don’t like the way it looks.”
To his credit, he doesn’t laugh at me or demean me, and I’m grateful for that. I feel out of my element enough as it is. Instead, he treats my proposal seriously.
“How would I recoup the costs of the renovation without raising the rents of the tenants? From what you’ve told me, they can’t afford higher rents.”
I look at him and note that his voice isn’t condescending at all. Rather, he’s just frank and business-like.
