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“I don’t know if I have yet,” Danielle admits, using her free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “But I’m trying to keep an open mind.”
The town looms in the distance, hundreds of buildings glistening underneath the pale light of the moon. Trees and cars blur past me in either direction.
I pull up into a crowded parking lot, outside of a restaurant with a cursive sign out front. After killing the ignition, I race over to Danielle’s door and hold it open.
She offers me a grateful smile and places her hand in the crook of my elbow.
I’m nervous as I lead her across the street and up a set of stairs.
Inside, there is soft music playing and rows of tables on either side of us. Red tablecloths and candles. Waiters in black and white uniforms. The smell of cheese and garlic linger in the air.
A waiter motions to us to the back side. He gestures to an empty table, with a single candle in the center, and I wait for Danielle to sit down.
She is studying the menu when I look up at the waiter. “We’ll have a bottle of your best wine to start with, thank you.”
“There you go again, trying to impress me.”
“It is our first date.” I link my fingers together and look directly at her. “Order whatever you want off the menu. It’s my treat.”
Danielle lowers the menu and holds my gaze. “I don’t need you to spend too much money on me, Adrian.”
I smile. “I want to.”
Danielle tries to hide her blush. “Okay, fair enough.”
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up so easily.”
Danielle rolls her eyes and reaches for her glass. She takes a few sips, and some of the tension in her shoulders melts. “I’m not. I’m just picking and choosing my battles.”
“A wise decision. It’ll make you better prepared to handle failure.”
Danielle sets her glass down and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those sore winners.”
I take a sip of my own drink, the fruity aftertaste trickling down my throat. “I’m not.”
Danielle’s eyebrow climbs higher. “I guess we’ll have to see about that.”
A bowl of steaming hot pasta with several meatballs on top is set in front of her.
I pick up my fork to dig into my risotto. We keep up a steady stream of conversation throughout dinner.
Danielle is growing more and more relaxed by the minute. I think that I’ve finally broken through her defenses, until that is I spot someone I know.
Cursing, I sink lower into my seat and hide my face behind a menu.
Once he brush past, I sit up straighter and breathe a sigh of relief.
It lasts until I look over at Danielle, who has her lips pursed, a guarded expression on her face.
The ride back to the ranch is quiet and filled with tension.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Danielle says, as she rummages through her purse. “Thanks for dinner.”
My stomach tightens. “Look, about that man at dinner—”
Danielle finds her keycard and holds a hand out. “I get it. The ranch’s reputation has to come first. I’ve had a long night, Adrian. I’m going to sleep now.”
I lean forward, but she turns her back on me.
