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The doorbell rings and I turn away from the mirror, grabbing my black clutch off the end of the bed before leaving my room.
"Damn." Is all Jackson says when I open the front door.
"Thank you." I chuckle. "Not so bad yourself."
He looks much better than my words give him credit for in his all black three-piece suit.
"Ready?" he asks.
"No roses, Jackson?"
"My roses for you are tattooed on my ribs."
I narrow my eyes at him. "That was pretty damn smooth."
He wiggles his brows at me before we head to his car.
"So, where are we going?" I ask once we're on our way to dinner.
"It's called Stella's. One of the best restaurants around. But you wouldn't even know it was there if you weren't looking for it. I like those places best."
"Never wanted your own restaurant?"
"Maybe when I'm older. For now, I like the freedom that being a personal chef brings. I work when I want to, which is a hell of lot these days, and don't work when I don't want to. A restaurant would consume all of my time. But I have the option whenever I want it. Although my father didn't care for me, he still left me half his estate, so I have more than enough to get whatever I want."
"Ah, so you're rolling in it too, huh?"
He laughs. "I guess that's one way to put it. I don't use it much. What I make more than supports me, but I do plan to dip into it in order to buy Shawn all the things his parents won't."
"Ha! You say that as if Soph and Law are gonna be able to refuse him anything. He already has them wrapped around his finger."
"And you too."
"And you."
He tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Very true."
Another few minutes and we're pulling onto what looks like just another residential street. What gives it away as something moreis the many, many cars parked along it. And there, on the right, in a cul-de-sac is a small restaurant, with tea lights across the top, and a line of people outside. Just a few other businesses are beside it, all dark, no lights on this time of night. Jackson waits for a car to leave so we can take its spot at the entrance of the street.
He gets out and opens my door, holding my hand to help me out. His eyes go up and down my body as I straighten my dress. The feeling of them on me, the hunger is his gaze, its electric.
"I think you might have a little drool right..." I wipe his chin.
He laughs. "It would be worth it for how sexy you look." Then he looks to the side. "You have to pay at the meter and put the ticket in your windshield here. You go ahead and see how long they say the wait is for the table. I'll be right there."
"Another kiss first." He smiles and brings his lips to mine.
"Go before that dress makes me change my mind and just bend you over in the backseat."
"I don't think threats are supposed to sound so enticing." I chuckle.
He heads toward the meter halfway down the street and I begin walking toward the cul-de-sac. It's semi-busy, everyone on the street seeming to be either going to or leaving Stella's. Glancing into the alley I pass and only finding darkness, I look back at the long line of people outside of the restaurant.
"I hope the wait doesn't take for- Ooh," I exclaim as I'm dragged backwards.
My feet scramble for purchase while the hand gripping my forearm pulls me into the alley between two of the closed buildings. Terror fills me as the darkness of the alley swallows me up. I'm yanked around to facing whoever grabbed me.
"Get your fucking hands-"
