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LILY
Nero gets his wish.My ass is sore from his spanking, and it stings with every step. Reminding me how roughly he handled me.
And how I want more.
“So, I guess laying low is officially over,” I comment as Nero pulls up in front of one of the hottest new restaurants in town. It’s owned by some celebrity chef that’s known for throwing things in the kitchen, yelling at his staff, and creating some of the best food in the world.
“It’s not necessary anymore,” Nero replies with a nod. “Vance won’t be causing any more trouble for me.”
I know what that means, and I don’t want the details. Although, when I think about the horror I felt when that car bomb went off, I can’t allow myself to feel bad about it.
The valet opens my door as Nero steps out on the other side, handing over his car keys. I have to admit to myself that he looks amazing tonight, filling out the black suit he’s wearing just right. He’s wearing a cocky smirk that reminds me of sex. It’s the way he looks when he knows he’s brought me to the brink of pleasure.
“Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance,” I say as we walk into the restaurant.
We haven’t even made it to the hostess stand yet, and heads are turning, people are whispering to each other, and a few cell phones come out to snap a picture or two. It looks like news of Nero Barretti’s survival is causing quite a stir.
And that was probably his intention. He’s announcing himself as alive in a big way by bringing us here. News will probably spread throughout the city of his return before we’ve even had our appetizers.
“What can I say?” Nero gives a casual shrug, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve learned a thing or two about being in the spotlight from parading around at those high-society events with you on my arm.”
We approach the hostess stand, where he doesn’t even need to announce his name before we’re whisked to a table. It’s the best in restaurant, on a platform near the window, where we have a nice view of a park across the street. It’s nice to spot a slice of green in this city of concrete and steel.
“It’s still surprising to me that you eat at places like this,” I can’t resist saying. “I remember back when you thought buying a girl a hot dog from a street cart was a good idea.”
Nero smiles. “You want to talk about how I’ve changed, but what about you? That street cart was your idea of an adventure back then.”
“Oh, to be that young again.”
“Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t want to be a teenager these days.”
“Life is rough for them, isn’t it?”
“No. I mean, teenagers are dumb.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “A lot of people think that about the younger generations.”
“Then, I guess I’m a crotchety old man.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.
The menu is small, with no prices listed, telling me it’s expensive and the food is going to be amazing. When the waitress comes, Nero orders a bottle of wine for us, and we place our orders. When we’re alone again, I look at Nero across the candlelit table, and feel a pang.
“What are we really doing here?” I ask softly.
“Announcing my miraculous survival,” he replies.
“No. You could have done that anywhere, with anyone,” I shake my head. “But you took me on a date, instead. You always have an ulterior motive,” I remind him. “So tell me what’s going on?”
Nero is silent a moment, then he sighs. “I know the past week hasn’t been easy for you,” he says, and when he meets my eyes, I see the honesty there. “I wanted to do something nice, that’s all. A regular date.”
I pause, my heart aching. Nothing about life with Nero is regular, but I understand the urge. To reclaim a few moments of calm amongst the chaos. To just be us.
“Regular…” I say, relaxing. “Does that mean small talk about the weather?”
He chuckles. “Baby, we can talk about anything you want.”
“Even bad reality TV?” I tease.
