Chapter Three

Worthington’s

S pecial? Is that what he’d asked for?

Staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror, Amy wasn’t sure her outfit fit the bill. The problem was she only owned one dress, and the black number was almost as old as she was. She hadn’t wanted to ask to borrow one from her friends, though. Those were the same network of people she’d soon be relying on for a bed at night, and the only calls she’d made that day had been to find someone who’d offer her their sofa for a few nights. An outfit for the evening hadn’t been a priority until she’d opened her wardrobe to assess her options.

“It’ll have to do.” Smoothing down the skirt of the tired dress, she turned to stare at her figure.

She wasn’t as trim as she used to be, but after two children and still in the haze of menopause, it had become more difficult to keep off the pounds. Still, if poverty had any advantages, it was that she rarely had the money to indulge in sweet treats, so she wasn’t in bad shape.

“It’s only dinner.” Her stomach growled at the promise of a whole meal instead of making do with the small portions she could usually afford. “He doesn’t have to fancy me to feed me.”

But I hope he does.

She checked her watch at the nagging thought, acknowledging that if she was going to make it to Worthington’s, the restaurant he’d chosen, she needed to leave. Slipping on the only jacket she owned, she grabbed her purse and keys before she ran out onto the cold street.

The establishment Kyle had chosen was a good half an hour from her apartment. It was an easy enough walk usually, but in the early evening, in kitten heels, she wasn’t looking forward to the trek. It was, though, another thing she had no choice over. After sending Jonah the money for his program, she only had that one solitary note in all the world. It was just enough to buy her a taxi home, but it certainly wouldn’t stretch to one there and back.

Passing a group of young men on the street, she kept her head down and ignored the spike of adrenaline that flooded her system. She was sure they were all decent people who just liked to hang around the estate together—she had been young once, too, and recalled the appeal of being with friends—but collectively, they represented an intimidating sight.

Thankfully, she sped past them without remark but noted how her breaths had become visible in the evening air. Autumn was coming, enveloping the days in its chillier climes and longer hours of darkness. Its arrival made the journey even less appealing as she clutched her purse to her chest and pulled her jacket tighter around her.

It was around twenty minutes later that the lights of Worthington’s lit up the road ahead. By then, the surrounding area had morphed from deprived to upmarket, the clusters of people she noticed dressed in suits and arriving in large, expensive cars.

This is the place, then.

The thought was wry, particularly when she glanced down at her own well-worn attire to compare it to the other women arriving at the venue, but it was too late to change her mind. She’d made it this far and wasn’t prepared to head home without a plate of delicious food inside her.

Reaching the entrance, she stared up at the impressive frontage. Framed by foliage and elaborate lighting, the fascia announced the name of the restaurant as though it was an exclusive club. Glancing up at the steps that led to the enormous, golden double doors, she swallowed, noticing a line of well-dressed clientele waiting to be seated. Maybe this was a step too far for a girl like her?

“There you are, Amy.”

The same male tone that had tempered her dreams the night before intruded on her insecurity, and as she turned, she saw him standing there—William Kyle. He took a step toward her, an expectant smile already painted across his face.

“Where did you come from?”

“Mr. Kyle.” She hadn’t expected him to be waiting out there for her. How long had he been watching? “I just...” She motioned behind her to the road she’d just walked along. “I came that way.”

His gaze flitted fleetingly to assess her direction of travel, his smile dissolving. “You walked here?”

“Yes.” She craned her neck to meet his disapproving stare. “How else should I arrive?” Her tone was light-hearted, but inside, she was reeling. Amy hadn’t known what to expect from the evening, save for a decent meal, but her expectations hadn’t stretched to being interrogated about her travel arrangements.

“By taxi.” His brow rose as if he couldn’t believe her naivety. “It’s not safe for a lady to walk alone.”

“Oh, I was fine.” She dismissed his concerns with a forced laugh, conveniently disregarding how intimidated she’d felt around the group of youths on her way.

“Naughty girl.” His playful tone negated the way his eyebrow arched at her response.

Mortifyingly, she sensed an embarrassing heat blooming in her cheeks at the gesture.

“Promise me you’ll take a taxi home.”

“I will.” That was an easy vow to make since that had already been her plan. “I promise.”

“Good.” He leaned forward, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Time stood still as his tempting lips and mesmerizing gaze neared, her heart galloping at the intimacy, but in the end, only his hand moved, rising in slow motion to her face, which he cradled gently.

“You’re cold.” His eyes were knowing. “Let’s get inside.”

“Yes.”

It took every inch of her willpower not to lean into his palm and enjoy its warmth, but as it lowered to collect her hand, she acknowledged how much she craved the caress he was yet to offer.

Even though it was ridiculous to lust after a man who promised nothing more than dinner. Even though she had far bigger concerns in her life than a meaningless kiss, a part of her was still bereft at his absence.

“This way.” He’d already moved by the time she registered his prompt, his long limbs taking him halfway up the white steps. His fingers clasped hers, though, ensuring she couldn’t change her mind.

For a moment, she contemplated whether she appreciated his ‘take-charge’ attitude. She wasn’t used to being berated for her choices, let alone in public, but then, what had she anticipated? Kyle was obviously a man who liked to take control of a situation. He’d demonstrated that much at the grocery store. That was what she’d liked.

As he tugged her up the stairs, past other customers who appeared to be waiting for their turn, she reconciled herself to play his game. It felt good to have someone care for her welfare for a change. Even her late husband hadn’t been overly worried about her safety on nights out, although she was sure he’d cared for her in his own way.

Reaching the zenith of the short climb, the warmth radiating from Worthington’s dispersed the debate. Let Kyle play the scolding hero for the evening. Perhaps she’d grow to appreciate being looked after.

“Mr. Kyle?” A man who she assumed to be the ma?tre d’, based on his penguin-like attire and austere expression, pushed past the staff greeting customers to meet them. “How are you, sir?”

Guiding Amy against his body, Kyle met the guy with the same debonair style she’d come to associate with him.

“Robert.” Kyle thrust out a hand in the ma?tre d’s direction. “It’s always a pleasure.”

“As it is to see you, sir.” Robert’s focus slid from Kyle to Amy. “I see you require a discreet table for two?”

Discreet?

The word grated as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. How did anyone just bypass the rather tangible line outside and know the ma?tre d’ by name? Clearly, her beau frequented Worthington’s a lot. But that didn’t explain the ma?tre d’s assertion that they’d require an inconspicuous table. What did Kyle get up to with his guests when he usually visited? The questions loitered in her mind as Kyle replied.

“This is Mrs. Kendal.” Kyle emphasized her title as he gestured to her. “And yes, my normal table, please, Robert.”

“It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Kendal.” Robert’s smile was insincere as he approached her. “Please, follow me.”

“Thanks.”

She glanced between the two men, suddenly aware that all eyes were on her, but as quickly as the attention landed, it was gone, and with Kyle’s hand still firmly enmeshed with hers, there was little choice but to cede as the two men walked away.

“Do you come here often?” she whispered as she caught up with Kyle. She wanted to ask how he preferred to be referred to—Mr. Kyle was getting a little old—but passing other people’s tables hardly seemed the right time to inquire.

“I do.” The wink he threw her sent the butterflies in her belly fluttering in various directions. “It’s nice to have a good-quality place to rely on. I hope you enjoy it, Amy.”

Nice? Glancing around at the lavish décor, the word barely seemed adequate.

“I’m sure I will.”

Meeting his smile as Robert presented them with a table at the far end of the restaurant on a separate, elevated level and Kyle gently squeezed her fingers, she was conscious that she might have more than only dinner on her mind.

Dessert was looking increasingly alluring, too.