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Maybe dinner wasn’t going to be excruciating.
Sex could wait.
Maybe.
Because this place was gorgeous. The walls were a gleaming ivory color, paintings with gold outlines of the female form every couple of feet. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, warm light that danced across the room. The tables were set with crisp white linens and glistening silverware, each adorned with a single red rose in a delicate vase. Soft jazz music played in the background, and…I’d never been to a place that felt so romantic.
Not even Paris.
We stepped out of the elevator and a hostess appeared, as if from thin air. As soon as she saw Carter, her cheeks flushed and she stood up straighter, thrusting her chest forward. She was completely fixated on him, but Carter paid her no mind…he was staring at me.
“Good evening, Mr. Hayes,” the hostess said in a high, breathy voice. Carter squeezed my hand and glanced over at her, a polite, disinterested mask slipping into place.
She quickly got the memo he wasn’t interested, and regained her composure. “Thank you for joining us this evening. Your table is this way.” She guided us to a secluded corner table, where a panoramic view of the city unfolded before us. The skyline glittered with a sea of lights, and I wished my phone was better at capturing pictures.
It was breathtaking.
We settled into our seats, the hostess informing us our server would be with us in just a moment before she walked away.
“This place is amazing,” I whispered, watching Carter as he lounged in his seat. He was comfortable in his own skin, so self-assured that he belonged.
What would it be like to feel that way?
Had I ever felt that way?
“Only happy thoughts, baby,” he murmured, leaning forward and grabbing my hand so he was holding it across the table.
“Sir, I’m so sorry, but you have a call at the front.” The hostess was back, looking far edgier and uncomfortable than she had just a few minutes before.
“What? Who is it?” asked Carter, his forehead scrunched in confusion.
“I’m not sure, sir. But they said it was important.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, getting up from his seat. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured to me.
I watched as he left, a flicker of unease in my stomach…for no apparent reason at all.
It just seemed weird.
There was a french loaf on the table, and I decided to grab a slice…because bread was life.
But then I finished it.
And he still wasn’t back yet.
Another slice in….
And he still wasn’t back.
And before I knew it…twenty minutes had passed…and I was beginning to have concerns.
Just as I stood up, a furious Greyson rounded the corner, his face filled with relief when he saw me.
“Kennedy!” he murmured, stalking towards me.
“What are you doing here?” I said slowly.
He closed his eyes as if my question had caused him physical pain. “I’m so sorry, baby. Carter left.”
