AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Uh, yeah…” she hesitates. I glance towards her to see her mouth open and close as she looks slightly flustered at my offer.
“It’s just dinner and a drink. Nothing serious. You did well today and should be rewarded. Plus, I can’t have you come to New York and not enjoy at least one night out. Think of it as a mini party before being locked away in the painting dungeon.”
At my explanation, she laughs. The warmth and vibrance of her laughter floats around me, constricting my heart as I watch the dimples in her cheeks grow red from her amusement.
“Okay…okay.” She pants as she catches her breath. “I’ve never had anyone describe my studio like that before, but I’ll go. Just as long as you promise it’s just dinner, and one drink only. I don’t want to get drunk… I plan on waking up bright and early tomorrow to begin.”
“Deal. Dinner and one drink only.”
* * *
Taking Kylie to the building was definitely memorable. The moment she saw the space she had to work with, her eyes lit up and—due to her amazement—she almost tripped and fell. Thankfully though, I was standing right next to her.
She took notes and pictures with her phone, telling me it was all reference for when she began conceptualizing the art. Whatever that meant.
I can’t deny that spending time with her is something I’ll never get enough of.
With one final look in the mirror, I leave my bathroom and go downstairs to wait for Kylie. We agreed to dinner, and on my way to my office, I made sure to make the best of reservations. Though, if she doesn’t hurry up, we’re going to miss them.
Glancing down at my watch, I frown. What is with this woman and being on time?
When I finally hear the sound of heels on my flooring, I look up and have to hold back the excitement I feel when I see her. She looks so fucking hot in that simple black dress, her red hair piled artfully atop her head with a few wayward curls framing her face.
Did I think the dress was simple? Far from it. At least on her. It hugs all the right places, emphasizing her perfect breasts and trim waist. The hem stops a couple inches above her knees, giving me a tantalizing view of her slender legs.
Ho-ly fuck, she is a knockout. If I didn’t realize it before—and of course I did—Kylie is no longer my brother’s awkward little best friend. She’s all woman now. She looks so fantastic that I want to tell her to forget going out, we’re eating in. And clothes are optional.
“Ready to go?” I finally manage to choke out. She blushes and I admire how natural it looks on her. I don’t know how they do it, but I’ve met some women who are able to make themselves blush on command.
But not Kylie. Everything about her is open and honest. It’s so refreshing compared to what I’m used to being around. A sudden desire to make sure I’m the only man to make her blush takes me by surprise. Why the hell am I suddenly feeling so possessive?
“Thank you,” she says, clutching her purse a little tighter. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
We leave and take the private elevator down to the garage where my Bugatti is parked. She raises an eyebrow at my car but doesn’t say anything. I’m not trying to impress her. I’m not trying to impress anyone. I enjoy the finer things in life, and I work hard to have them.
I drive us to one of the popular restaurants that usually requires reservations at least a month in advance, but I have a standing reservation because I tend to bring a lot of clients here. Wining and dining really can make a difference when a client is on the fence.
As the valet takes my keys, I escort Kylie up the red-carpeted walkway and into the restaurant.
“Mr. Lewis! How nice to see you this evening,” a young host says when we get inside. His eyes brighten as he looks at Kylie before returning his attention to me. “Table for two tonight?”
“Yes, thank you, Sean,” I answer.
Kylie shoots a surprised glance at me. As we follow Sean to my table, I don’t miss the way that wandering eyes are trailing Kylie as she moves in front of me. A dark urge brews inside me as I shoot a few of the patrons a stern glare, watching as they quickly shift their attention elsewhere.
As soon as we’re seated, I turn to Sean. “Bring us a bottle of my usual.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice as he hands us menus and scurries away to get what I asked for.
“I take it you come here often,” she says wryly.
I shrug. “My clients seem to like it.”
She smiles and takes a sip of her water, her eyes darting around the restaurant above the rim of her glass.
“Wow, this place is amazing,” she says softly after setting her glass down.
I glance around, trying to see it through her eyes. I’m so used to it, the miniature chandeliers above each table don’t even impress me anymore. The lighting is dim and intimate, but not dark like a bar. There are candles on each table. Real candles, not battery-operated cheap imitations. Pristine white linen tablecloths are accented with royal blue cloth napkins.
