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Little does Sandy know I’ve had to go to way too many stupid formal events throughout my whole life. This was pretty simple in comparison, but I had to decide on everything on my own rather than my dad telling me what I should wear and how to do my hair.
I ended up pulling it half up with my silver chopsticks. I honestly didn’t do much since I didn’t have the time. Some light makeup covered my previously bare face, and I threw on some perfume and deodorant, since I didn’t have time to shower after I took care of the evidence. I gave Sandy free choice of my minimal amount of dressier clothes. She picked out a soft forest green T-shirt dress and my black ankle boots.
Her face when she picked up the boots and commented on how heavy they were was nothing compared to when I told her they were steel-toed. The boots were a gift from Enzo. He dislikes my preference for unpractical shoes, so he bought me a pair of dressy black bootsI could use to kick someone’s head in (his words, not mine). They’re honestly my favorite shoes too. I wear them almost every day.
Sandy opens the door with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Zane looks taken aback by her new attitude. He’s standing in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers. Earlier, he was wearing a pair of paint-speckled light-wash jeans and a white shirt with paint-coated fingerprint marks along the hem. Now he’s wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a black button-up shirt that looks a size or two too big for him. It looks more like something that would fit Lennox’s broad shoulders better than Zane’s narrow ones.
His eyes meet mine and a bright smile spreads across his face. “I got you these.” He holds the flowers out to me.
I step forward and accept them. It’s not the first time I’ve received flowers, but those times were mostly just from my dad on special occasions, like my birthday, or the occasions that one of his business associates brought him a gift, they were always accompanied by some kind of flowers for me. I’ve never received flowers in a romantic kind of way, and it makes my tummy flutter nervously.
I bring them to my nose and sniff. The daisies and sunflowers don’t smell the best, but the peonies have a pleasant, almost spicy scent. “Thank you,” I tell Zane, not able to mask the emotion in my voice.
He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and then holds out a transparent, pink-tinged vase. “I wasn’t sure if you would have one, so I got you a vase too.” His eyes fall to the vase before rising back to mine.
I give him a smile. “That’s good, because I don’t have one.”
Sandy steps forward and holds her hands out to Zane. “Here, I’ll take care of those so you two can get going.” Zane hands the vase over, and I allow her to take the flowers from me as well. She sets them down on the desk before crossing her arms once more and turning to Zane. “But before you go, we need to have a talk.” She pauses, her eyes narrowing. “What exactly are your intentions with my roommate?”
“Umm…” Zane pauses and screws his face up. “To take her to dinner?”
I knock my shoulder into Sandy’s and she can’t stop the gigglethat escapes. “I’ll see you later, mom,” I call over my shoulder sarcastically as I pull Zane from the room, closing the door behind us.
I can hear Sandy cackling through the thin wood of the door. Zane’s eyes focus on mine and track over every inch of me while my eyes do the same to him. “You look beautiful,” Zane breaths out, reaching out for my hand and threading his fingers through mine.
I shake my head. “You look really handsome.” It’s true, even though I kind of prefer the unkempt look he usually goes with. This just doesn’t seem to fit his personality, though I do appreciate the effort he put in.
When I step closer, I’m disappointed to find he doesn’t smell like turpentine oil like he usually does. All I can smell is the slightly familiar scent of his laundry detergent. I feel like everyone around here uses the same brand or something. He tugs me gently down the hall. “Come on, let’s go get dinner.”
I follow behind him with a lightness in my step. I feel so free with Zane that sometimes it can feel a little overwhelming, but not in a bad way.It’s like I can be myself and he won’t shame me for it.
He leads me out to a small maroon car with just two seats. The nervous flutters in my stomach increase as he opens the passenger side door for me. When I get in, he carefully closes the door, making sure my limbs are all safely in the clown car. It’s surprisingly comfortable with its cramped appearance from the outside, though I can’t understand the want for a car that probably can’t even fit one body in the trunk. How does he get rid of evidence? Then again, not everyone takes the number of bodies able to fit in the trunk into consideration when buying a car.
The car doesn’t really smell like him. There’s only the faint scent of his normal turpentine with the smell of some kind of industrial cleaner overpowering it. “You can turn the radio on if you want, or there’s an AUX cord.”
I lean forward in my seat to do just that. It’s an older car with an analog screen with simple radio controls. I pick up the cord and plug in my phone.Peachby The Front Bottoms starts to play and Zane starts to nod his head along with the beat. “This is really good. I’ve never heard this band before.”
I shrug. “They’re from Jersey. Enzo used to go see them at bars and stuff there when I was little. He used to bring me copies of their tapes and we’d listen to their music while we…” I trail off, realizing that I’m giving him information I shouldn’t be. Viv doesn’t know Enzo. “Anyway, I really like their music. I’ve always wanted to see them live, especially now that they’re more popular.”
“Enzo?” Zane asks, glancing over at me.
I curse myself silently. I can’t tell him the truth, obviously. “He’s the man my dad had guard me when I left the house.” Which is true, so it’s not really a lie either, it just doesn’t include the plethora of training he gave me.
Zane nods. “You get along better with him than your dad?”
I look out the window, not wanting him to see my face. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” The truth is, I feel guilty. My dad is a controlling helicopter parent, but he truly loves me. I’m sure he’s just trying to make sure I’m taken care of, but his lack of concern about what I want is the problem. Out of anyone in the world, I would never pick Luca to be my husband. I’d rather marry the cannibal who turned Dr. Price into a vegetarian. Luca has never done anything outright against me, but I hate the way he looks at me. His attention always makes my skin crawl. I literally threw up in my mouth thinking about marrying him and then having to consummate that marriage.
“We’re here,” Zane says a bit solemnly as he easily pulls into a parking spot. He turns to face me. “You never have to talk about anything you don’t want with me. I’d just rather you refuse to say anything than lie. Okay?”
I nod my head. “That’s fair.”
Zane smiles and jumps out of the car. A pout pulls down the corners of his mouth when he gets to my door and I’ve already got it open. It’s easy and comfortable when his hand slides back into mine. The restaurant looks a bit rustic on the outside and that only increases when we walk inside. There’s a lot of exposed wood and dark colors that make the place feel cozy. A girl at the hostess stand greets us with a big smile. “Is it just the two of you, or are the others coming in as well?” She directs the question to Zane.
Zane shakes his head. “Just the two of us.”
The girl’s smile falls just a bit. “Okay. Follow me and I’ll get you guys seated.” She grabs two menus and leads us through the tables before sitting us at a large booth with the promise that our waiter will be by to take our order soon.
“I come here often with the guys,” he tells me.
