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The little flame of confidence burning in me burns a bit brighter with his compliments, but then doubt returns because of the rejection I’ve suffered for years, and I purse my lips. I wonder if he’s making fun of me and playing with my emotions. I vow not to get sucked into his game.
4
THE DATE
I’m silent as the love god, Eros, aka Cupid, drives my car down the narrow beach town road to the restaurant for dinner. I rub my palms along my thighs, feeling completely discombobulated. Now I finally understand what that word means.
My mind churns with all that happened in one day. I still don’t know what the love god really expects from me. I can’t believe he needs me to work for him. There has to be a catch, or maybe he just wants to mess with a mortal for laughs.
We park in front of a gorgeous, cream-colored stone building that looks like someone plucked it right from a French village. The landscaping is immaculate, with that sort of constructed randomness in the flower garden on either side of the stone path. To take the scene to the next level, they wrapped the porch pillars in fairy lights to give it a romantic, whimsical vibe.
As we walk toward the front entrance, I can see inside. The lighting is dim, and each linen-draped table has candles and roses on it. My eyes are wide, and I stall along the path.
Eros turns to me with a quizzical look on his face. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you hungry?”
“This place…”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He snatches up my hand and somehow gets me to move again. Why is he taking me to one of the fanciest, most romantic restaurants I’ve ever even seen, let alone walked into?
An attractive hostess shows us to our table, and she almost trips a dozen times since she’s checking Eros out. I wonder if she’s going to jump his bones right in front of me, but fortunately, she thinks better of trying.
He, however, doesn’t even give her a second glance, which is weird, because I’m not even into women and I give her a once-over just to take in her flawless appearance.
Instead, Eros made sure I was following him, since I didn’t move right away when she was showing us to our table. I ponder his behavior again. Not even a glance at the supermodel wannabe?
Yeah, this is some sort of game.
My hackles are raised as we are seated at a beautiful balcony table overlooking the moonlit waves. This is more romantic than anything I have ever experienced. If only I were sharing this moment with Carl…Nope. I need to remember Carl is off-limits. He’s probably dating his future wife.
“Why are you frowning?” Eros asks after the hostess finally stops hovering for no reason and leaves us with our menus.
“What’s allthis?” I gesture to my dress, the view, and the restaurant.
He looks confused for a second, and then my question registers. “Oh,this? I’m training you.”
“Training me? For what? Dating Olympics?” I ask grumpily.
“Olympics.” He snorts, and it’s fucking adorable. “That’s a good one.”
Cupid snorts.
I laugh at my unintentional Greek reference and his goofy reaction. We both chuckle together companionably for a moment.
“You’re rightfully overwhelmed.” Eros gazes into my eyes to convey his sincerity. “Although I don’t know why you are mad at me when I saved your life today.”
“You only did that to claim my life as yours.” I glare. “And to mess with me.”
“Messwith you?” Eros narrows his eyes. “How am I messing with you?”
I huff and ignore his question. He isn’t going to admit his game yet. He might just let death take me after all if I don’t play along for a bit.Fine. I’ve been screwed with in the past, and I can handle one more jerk—I hope.
“Never mind,” I mutter and study my menu with the intensity of a hawk with its prey. “I’m hangry.” The dishes don’t even have prices listed. That’s never a good sign for a wallet. I can’t afford this place. “Could you have taken me to a place even close to my budget?”
“It’s on me, sweetheart,” Eros says absently as he scans the menu.
“But—”
“This is a work write-off.” He lifts his eyes enough to catch my expression of disbelief.
