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No matterwhathe does tonight.
8
GAGE
Violet seems nervous as I place my hand on her lower back and lead her into Sinclair 58. It’s a high-end rooftop restaurant in Chelsea, popular both for its food and its seen-and-be-seen reputation.
I give my name to the restaurant host, who leads us toward our table. I’m pretty sure we pass three actors I recognize and a failed gubernatorial candidate.
Violet is breathtakingly gorgeous in a cerulean silk mini-dress and the necklace I gave her, but she’s stiff as a board.
“Relax,” I murmur in her ear.
If anything, she tenses more. “Easy for you to say. I bet you go to places like this all the time.”
“Actually, I avoid them like the plague.”
That surprises a laugh out of her, and I feel a spurt of victory.
Since when did I start caring about making Violet laugh?
The host disappears, leaving us to peruse the menus.
“Holy shit,” Violet says, real concern in her voice.
My head snaps up. “What?”
She waves the menu in my face. “Have you seen these prices?”
Her indignation is kind of cute.
“Violet, you don’t need to worry about that tonight.”
Or ever, when you’re with me, I think.
She looks around at the glamorous people surrounding us. The whole rooftop is filled with lights and exotic flowers and enough discreet heat lamps to keep any evening chill away.
It’s spectacular, but I’ve seen it all before.
The only person here I can’t take my eyes off is Violet. She’s like a wild rose surrounded by mass-produced green-house flowers.
I want to ask if she’s wearing the perfume I gave her. If not, I could help her apply it when we get home. Dab it on the inside of her wrists, that sensitive spot on her neck, between her thighs...
I yank my thoughts away from that direction and clear my throat. “What do you want to drink—”
“Is there something I should be doing?” Violet interrupts. “To convince people we’re together. If we’re here to see and be seen, should I be, I don’t know, flirting? Laughing at your jokes?”
“I don’t joke,” I say dryly.
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
I study her. “Just relax and let me take care of it.”
“But—”
“If we were in love, I’d take care of you, Violet. You wouldn’t need to worry about work, or money, or being alone. I’d plan every date, and every gift, just to make you smile. All you’d have to do every day, in exchange, is just be yourself.”
Her breathing quickens.
