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Whoa. Daniel was a Michelin-starred French restaurant on the Upper East Side. Jordan was pulling out the big guns to impress my—Ember.
Do I really have to say it? Yeah. Still an asshole.
“No,” Prentice answered. “But I’ve heard it’s amazing. In fact, Naomi will be jealous. She’s been after me to take her there. But I want to check with her doctor about what she can eat off their menu beforehand.”
I choked back a laugh, earning myself a scowl from my brother-in-law. Nothing got my sister fired up faster than when her overprotective husband became overbearing and told her what she couldn’t do or eat. Luckily, I was just the brother, so when the hormones kicked in and she started to cry, I made sure to be gone.
Jordan looked back and forth between us curiously, but neither of us volunteered an explanation, so he returned to the topic of his blind date. “I’ll let you know how it is. I’m meeting her there at seven.”
He’s not picking her up? Asshole.
“I wanted to pick her up, but she has class until just before our reservation.”
I gritted my teeth in frustration. Why did he have to be such a good guy? It would have been so much easier to stop the date by beating the shit out of him.
Stop the date?
“Actually, I’m hoping if things go well tonight, she’ll agree to be my date to the Spring Ball next month.”
My hands balled into fists at my side as I held in a growl. Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center held a fundraiser gala every year, and most of the team usually attended. I hated the idea of Ember dressing up for Jordan and spending the night on his arm—or worse, in them.
But even more than that, Naomi once mentioned that Ember’s little brother, Dennis, had died from cancer when he was ten. If anyone was going to take her to something so meaningful, it was damn well going to be me.
Stop the date.
Yeah, I was officially done with this bullshit. No more fighting myself, no more denying what I really wanted. It was time to go get my girl and make her mine. I wanted it all with her. Marriage, babies, grandkids, and growing old together.
My intention had been to wait for Ember outside the entrance to Daniel, but then it occurred to me that she might make a bit of a scene. After all, we’d been at each other’s throats since we met. It was bound to take a hell of a lot of convincing for her to agree to let me inside her tonight.
I needed a quick getaway and to catch her far enough from the restaurant to make sure Jordan never saw her coming—something he would never,eversee. I wasn’t sure if she’d walk down Park or Lex from the subway stop, so I double-parked in front of Mayfair House on Park—hoping the cops had already done their rounds in this area for a couple of hours—then I walked around the corner to stand by the entrance to the restaurant. The outside seating was blocked from the sidewalk by tall, pink wooden walls, so I stepped into the shadows right inside, bumping into an empty table.
The host was a young kid, and he waited expectantly for me to approach him. When he realized I wasn’t coming in to eat, he lifted his chin haughtily and opened his mouth to say something.
“Before you speak and say something that will more than likely piss me off, how about I just pay for a table, and you pretend I’m not here?”
The kid took a second to decide, but I could tell he was going to be difficult, so I stepped closer to the podium. When the lamp light shined onto my face, his eyes went wide, and his jaw literally dropped.
“You–you’re–holy shit–you’re Nixon Scott!”
“Keep your voice down,” I growled. I didn’t need him bringing my celebrity status to the attention of the other patrons. That would blow any chance I had at going unrecognized.
“I’m Kirk,” the host introduced himself. He bent down and retrieved a menu from beneath the podium and handed it to me with a pen. “If you sign this, you can hang out for however long you want.”
Being a famous football player had its perks, and while they sometimes came in very handy, I didn’t abuse them. So I happily signed the menu, then handed the kid a wad of cash. “For dinner,” I told him. He sputtered and tried to hand the money back, but I’d already walked over to the table closest to the sidewalk and leaned against it.
3
EMBER
Iprobably should have just grabbed a rideshare to the Upper East Side, but traffic tended to be a beast, so taking the 6 train saved me some time. However, I hadn’t considered the fact that I was usually dressed like a college student in yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt with my hair pulled into a ponytail when I took the subway. Wearing a tight dress and heels with my hair and makeup done up for a date was a different—and not entirely comfortable—experience. Something I should have realized when a few people in my study group asked me why I was so dressed up while one of the guys kept giving me weird looks.
At least the ride was making me anticipate my blind date a little more. I couldn’t wait to get off the train and meet up with Jordan at the restaurant he’d picked for dinner. Prentice’s teammate had obviously been looking forward to tonight because he’d somehow gotten us a last-minute reservation at Daniel.
It was a good thing Naomi had talked me into buying this dress. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had anything appropriate to wear to the Michelin-starred French restaurant that was known as a place to go to see and be seen. Eating there was way out of my league, but professional football players had a much different lifestyle than poor college students.
I had gotten used to seeing Prentice drop money on my best friend like it was no big deal, but I hadn’t expected Jordan to spend that kind of cash on our first date. His restaurant choice seemed like overkill for a girl he didn’t know. I was hoping that it was a favorite of his and not a sign of how he hoped the night would go because I still wasn’t sure if meeting him for dinner was a good idea when I had feelings for his teammate instead. But it was too late to back out now…and doing so would have Naomi asking questions I didn’t want to answer.
Focusing on the delicious food I was about to eat tonight, I stepped off the train and made my way out of the station. In an attempt to get psyched up for my date, I pulled up the restaurant’s menu online, and as I read it, my taste buds salivated over the Wagyu Beef Striploin and pretty much all of the desserts. During the few minutes it took me to walk an avenue block on East 68th and three blocks down Park Ave, I mentally debated between the milk and dark chocolate options.
