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There’s tinkling piano music and an echo that sounds like a restaurant.Is he on a date?I start getting annoyed. Then I think of my arranged blind date. Then I get sympathetic.
“Hi. I’m outside your condo. I need to talk to you.”
11
CAESAR
Jessica snorts loudly, covering her mouth with a hand. I force a smile, moving around the pasta on my plate but never bringing myself to take a bite.
The food is delicious, without a doubt. However, her coarse manners and boorishness are sapping my appetite. This is my third date this week and within minutes, I knew it was going to be another bust.
Who said the third time’s the charm? Whoever they are, they’re liars. All I can think about is how much I’d rather be having dinner with Vivienne.
God dammit. Why do I keep getting stuck at horrible dinners with these kinds of girls?I guess because I’m getting set up by Marcus’ shady friend.
“I don’t mind a good drink every now and then,” she says, sloshing around her white wine violently enough to spill on the tablecloth. She makes a small noise, something akin to a weird laugh, and she uses her napkin to wipe up the mess. “It loosens me up a bit. Gets me talking.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m glad you’re feeling comfortable.” I wonder what she’d have to take to stop talking.
“So, is it true? You’re a prince?” Jessica flutters her eyelashes at me. “I’ve never met a prince before. I always see them in magazines or whatever. You’re better looking than all of them.”
“Thank you. Where are you from, Jessica?”
I’m already planning my escape. It would be too rude to get up and leave, but I’m so tempted.
I zone out, practically meditating on the crystal chandeliers of the highbrow French restaurant. She immediately ordered the Osetra caviar appetizer and the surf and turf for dinner, knowing who was footing the bill.
Not exactly charming.
She’s been eying me as if I’m her ticket out of here or something. She’s telling me a story about how she found a rat the size of a shoe living in the ceiling of her old apartment.
God, doesn’t she know not to talk about things like that at the table? Ugh. I can just imagine how that would go over with my father.
If she keeps rambling on about her life, I might lose my mind in the end.
Why can’t Marcus or one of his many oddball friends find me a woman who’s like Vivienne? Sophisticated, smart, knows her shit. A woman who has everything together. A woman who speaks her mind but phrases it in a way that’s always thoughtful.
She’s also beautiful. Her refined features, flawless dark skin, and curly hair make her stunning, even when she doesn’t realize it. Any man would be lucky to have her on his arm. There’s an innocence about her, too.
Finding a wife is not going to be fun. If only Vivienne could accept my proposal. At this point, I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed. But still. I wonder if there’s anything I can do to change her mind. Why do I have to keep looking if I’ve already found the perfect woman for this? Vivienne Carter.
I blink back into reality, remembering I’m still on a date with this loud brunette across from me. She’s a good-looking girl, but the way she talks is enough to convince a man otherwise. There are some lights on in her head, but no one’s home. It’s not a good look.
Letting out a deep breath, I straighten my back and nod toward her dish. I reach for my wine.
“Enjoying the lobster?”
“I am! It’s great.”
She picks up the lobster tail and starts flopping it around. My nose wrinkles up in distaste. I’ve never liked seeing people play with their food, and in a setting like this, it’s embarrassing.
“I’ve never been a big fan of seafood, but this is delicious. We should come to this restaurant again.”
That nearly makes me spit out my wine.
When my phone starts ringing, Vivienne’s name appears. My breath hitches in my throat for a moment. I answer embarrassingly quickly, turning away from Jessica.
“Hello?”
