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A laugh bursts out of me and I have to cover my lips with my fingers to subdue it.
He swallows the drink and grins, leaning over the table. He can’t come far. There are flowers, candles, and four glasses dotted between us. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you’re enjoying an evening with me.”
“The night is young,” I tell him. “You have plenty of time to screw it up.”
As premonitions go, that one is going to end up being a tad too accurate.
After dinner and dessert, I’m wedging my molars together and praying for patience.
“Barrett.” My whisper is urgent, my eyes rounded.
“Yes, Kitty Cat?” He answers without looking up from his work: carefully trimming the end of a cigar. A lighter rests on the pristine tablecloth in front of him.
“You can’t smoke that in here.” Smoking is prohibited in public places in Ohio—but even if it was allowed, cigar smoking is a huge no-no. Especially in a restaurant without a designated area.
“Why not?” He pockets the cutter and chomps on the end of the cigar, channeling his inner Clint Eastwood.
“Because you’re not allowed.” I shoot a nervous glance to the tables around us and encounter several expressions of distaste.
“Allowed is relative,” he says around the cigar. He follows the direction of my gaze and tips his chin at an older couple. “How you doing?”
Then. He lights the cigar. Takes one puff, then another, blowing acrid smoke in a thick cloud over his head. He pulls it from his mouth and regards it with pride.
“Cuban.” He offers it to me. “Wanna try?”
Mouth open, I lean in to reprimand him but the hostess from earlier, who has been bustling around taking inventory of the tables, beats me to it. She’s all smiles and stars in her eyes, but she takes her task seriously.
“Mr. Fox.” Her smile is nervous as she leans close.
“Yeah, doll?” he asks, taking another deep puff.
“I’m so sorry to disturb your dinner, but I need you to put out the cigar. There’s no smoking in here.”
“Is that a rule?” He blows more smoke into the air.
“Yes. It’s a rule.” She positions his half full water glass in front of him. “Put it out, please.”
“Can’t do that,” he says as someone behind me coughs noisily. The older couple to his left fan their faces as my date takes another drag.
“You’re going to get into trouble if you don’t,” the hostess whispers, concern widening her eyes. “I don’t want to have to ask you to leave.”
A wolfish smile slides onto Barrett’s face, equal parts charm and smarm. “In that case, I’ll let you put it out. I can’t. It’s too fine an indulgence to dispose of personally.”
He puts the cigar between his lips, sucks his cheeks in and enjoys one more taste before the hostess reaches over with a shaking hand and takes it from his mouth.
I’m watching her closely, so I witness the exact moment she tentatively licks her lips. “Perhaps you could finish it outside?”
“That an offer?” He raises one rogue eyebrow.
Her eyes sparkle.
And that’s when I stand up and leave.
Chapter 7
Barrett
Kitty Cat’s been ignoring me for the better part of this week. I thought by midweek she’d be over my bad-boy restaurant antics. The silent treatment is petty, even for her.
