Chapter 12

T he restaurant is part of a fancy hotel, and I regret not following Kate's instructions regarding my shoes. I'm not used to wearing heels, so I dismissed the ones she took out in favor of ballet flats. Now, I look like a misplaced child.

Nevertheless, I find my way to the dining room. It's magnificent, with high ceilings, cream-colored walls, several massive crystal chandeliers… The furniture looks high-end, and the whole place feels very European—not that I've ever been there. People are dressed either smart or formal, and I feel like I stain the elegant ambiance.

Trying to ignore the intense beating of my heart, I walk up to the ma?tre d'.

"Good evening, miss. How may I help you?" he politely asks.

"Hi, I don't know if my party has arrived yet. The reservation should be under… Give me a second, I just have to make sure," I excuse myself, stepping to the side. Did Kevin tell me which name they used in the text he sent?

"I'm here for the Langley reservation," says a low, familiar voice beside me. My heart skips a beat, and the tiny hairs on my arms rise. Slowly, I look up to face the owner of the voice.

Alexander is looking at the ma?tre d' with his eternally stern expression. His petrol-blue suit hugs him to perfection. His dress shirt is the same shade but lighter, and the first three buttons are undone. He's magnificent.

I'm not ready when he looks down at me, and he isn't either. Slight shock twists his features. Thanks to Tami's makeup skills and Kate's outfit styling, I look nothing like I usually do. Even my hair's different, held up by pins in a purposefully loose way.

I tense under his stare as he rapidly analyzes me, dismissing my discomfort. There, he's seeing me in my dress, and I'm ready to prove my point. I observe him back, waiting to see his reaction. There's no way he ever eye-fucks me, as Kate so crudely put it.

Under his insistent stare, my nipples harden under the thin fabric of my dress, and I hope he won't notice my body's absurd reaction to him.

His gaze lingers on my silhouette, appraising me, and then his eyes meet mine. Unlike what my best friend predicted, Lex isn't horny for me, but a somber expression shadows his face instead. His square jaw is clenched, and his eyes are two slits under his frowning eyebrows.

Ha! In your face, Kate! Lex isn't eating me up. I knew it!

Weirdly enough, the realization doesn't please me as much as it should.

Part of me wanted my best friend to be right. Just a little bit.

I should have mentally prepared myself for Andrea to come looking differently than she does at work. Maybe then I wouldn't stand there like a moron, taking it all in.

She discarded her usual nerdy T-shirt and jeans, replacing them with a pretty little black dress. There's more makeup on her face than usual, and I'm seeing her hair up for the first time. It allows me to discover that she has more than one earring per ear, with golden rings along their delicate arches.

Objectively, she's prettier than I've ever seen her before. So much so, actually, that I feel like an idiot for not noticing her beauty when I saw her in the elevator on our very first encounter. But I think I prefer the everyday version of her, comfortable in her clothes and not looking so stiff, almost anxious. Still, she's a sight to behold.

As I admire every last detail of her, I get the answer to a question I've been asking myself from day one. No, she doesn't have more freckles dusting her shoulders. Only her nose and cheeks are adorned by them.

When my inspection lowers, I notice that her nipples, which have been haunting me all afternoon, are like two pearls poking against the thin fabric of her dress. I got a glimpse at their size earlier, but now I wonder just how small they can get, all pebbled and hard like they are now .

"Sir?" the ma?tre d' calls. I nearly glare at him for forcing me to look away from her. "As I was saying, your party is already seated. If you will come with me."

Reminding myself of common courtesy, I step aside and invite Andrea to go first. She diligently complies, and the ma?tre d' leads us into the chic restaurant.

Fucking hell, the back of her dress isn't as modest as the front, and I get a plunging view of her naked back. I already noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, but knowing I could effortlessly reach her breasts from the side has my palms tingling. I distract myself with the beauty marks she has there and count all twenty-three of them.

Fuck Kevin for suggesting this dinner. The asshole knew what he was doing.

I thought I was being clever with the way I handled things, but my old friend saw right through me. He drilled me with questions as soon as Andrea and her lawyer friend left. How did she know how much she could ask for, Lex? You know, you could have just told me you liked her. I'm not that much of a dick when it comes to money.

But he was wrong. I don't like her. I admire her intelligence and want to fuck her senseless, but I don't like her.

The ma?tre d' guides us to a table in the corner, where Kev and his wife are already seated. After a quick look at Andrea, Michelle gives me a broad, knowing smile, her light green eyes sparkling with mischief. Fuck, of course her husband told her everything. He can't keep secrets from her. They both stand to greet us as we arrive, with some difficulty for her, as she's heavily pregnant.

"Andrea, this is my wife, Michelle," Kevin introduces.

Everyone shakes hands, and I go around the table to give Shelly a brief, one-armed hug. "Behave," I whisper into her ear before I let go.

Anticipating that the ma?tre d' will do it, I pull out a heavy chair for Andrea and then push it in as she sits. Kev asks for a bottle of champagne for the table. "To celebrate," he tells me with a wink.

I wasn't very enthusiastic about this dinner to start with, but this is ridiculous. With his wife here, it looks like a double date, making this even more uncomfortable.

"Isn't it nice we were able to do this?" Kevin says with genuineness, opening the wine menu. Andrea and I nod, our eyes skimming through the beverages listed on our own menus.

In the corner of my eye, I see her peeking at my menu, and when I inquisitively turn to her, she whispers, "Does yours have prices on it?"

"Yes."

"Can I see them?"

"No. "

She frowns at my rebuttal. "Why?"

"The prices don't matter."

"What if it's too expensive?"

"Nothing's too expensive. Just pick whatever you want."

I can tell she disapproves, but she doesn't argue anymore and returns to her exploration of the menu's items with a pout.

"So, Andrea, I heard you cost my husband and his partner a lot of money today," Michelle says with a smile.

"Uh, I guess I did."

"She was unyielding. Never had such a hard bargain before," Kevin notes.

"Oh, so she has the trifecta. Brains, personality, and beauty."

Because she somehow doesn't realize it's true, Andrea mumbles, "Yeah, I'm not so sure about the latter."

"Oh, but you should be. Isn't she lovely, Lex?" Michelle asks with feigned innocence.

That earns her a dark glare over my menu. "She is," I mumble.

Andrea wriggles on her chair, apparently as uncomfortable as I am.

As dinner unfolds, Michelle includes Andrea in the conversation, making this evening a little smoother than it would have been without her. Maybe Kevin was right to bring her. She's a therapist, after all, so she's good at making people comfortable.

"So, when you're not creating groundbreaking apps, what do you do in your free time?" she asks Andrea.

The freckled beauty swallows her mouthful of dessert before taking a sip of wine to help it pass. "It depends. I have many interests, like movies, TV shows, music… Before moving here, I used to teach programming for an online school. I've been thinking about doing it again, so there's that. I'm also learning Korean. Or trying to learn would be more accurate."

"Why Korean?" Kevin wonders.

"I always loved their culture and intend to go there at some point."

"That's amazing. Lex and I have a trip to Seoul planned for later this year. We're partnering up with a tech manufacturer there."

Andrea smiles politely, and before silence can fall on us, Shelly keeps the conversation rolling. "You said you loved music? I do, too, and I'm always looking to broaden my horizons. Anything you'd recommend?"

"Hm… The last playlist I really loved was one I didn't see coming," Andrea says with unmasked amusement. When she turns toward me, I realize where she's going with this. "Mind telling them about your whacky playlist?"

Fuck. That'll bring questions I'm not ready to answer .

"Lex has a playlist?" Kevin wonders. He's understandably confused since I never listen to music.

"He drove me home one evening," she explains. "The playlist was… interesting."

Kevin's eyes are inquisitive when they meet mine. "You drove Andy home, Lex?"

"There was a bus strike. It was the evening she showed me her application. I kept her late, so it was the least I could do," I explain, not shying away from his gaze.

Michelle distracts Andrea with a question about her teaching experience, but Kev and I wage some kind of silent battle.

"Shut the fuck up," I mouth, already knowing he's about to stir shit. That's thankfully enough to stop him.

A liqueur trolley is brought to us once we're done with the desserts, and Andrea and Kev are the only ones picking something from it. Then the bill arrives, and Andrea insists on paying her share. "Kelex's treat," Kev insists.

I stand first, and when Andrea does, she stumbles and loses her balance. I'm quick to help her regain it, grabbing her arm while my other hand reaches for her back. The skin-to-skin contact immediately warms my palm and fingers, and it feels almost forbidden.

"Are you alright?" I worriedly ask.

She nods, and I understand she's tipsy when I meet her glassy eyes. Petite like she is, I'd imagine it doesn't take much alcohol for it. And with servers who constantly top up glasses, it's hard to keep track.

We all walk out of the restaurant, and my hand remains on her back, just above the waistline of her skirt. I tell myself it's in case she loses her balance again, but I know it's because I don't want to let go.

"How did you get here?" I ask as I remove my hand and clench it to chase away the prickling sensation.

"I drove."

"You can't drive now."

"Where do you live?" Kevin questions as he reaches us, his arm wrapped around Shelly's shoulders.

"South," I answer before her.

"Oh, we can drop you off then."

"I'll take care of her," I insist.

My friend frowns. "But you—"

"Honey," Michelle interrupts, elbowing him slightly, "let him. I want to go home. I'm tired, and these shoes are killing me."

I understand what she's doing before he does, and I clench my teeth. "Right, of course," Kevin agrees once it clicks. "Well, Andy, it was a pleasure getting better acquainted with you. I hope our work together will last for many, many years."

He shakes her hand, then mine. I let him pull me in for a quick hug, and he whispers, "South is quite the detour for someone you don't even like."

Then, after an irritating wink, he wraps an arm around Michelle again, and they walk off to their car.

"Alright, let's get this over with," I say, pulling out my keys and unlocking my car.

"Wait," Andrea protests, pointing at a rusty pile of peeling red paint under a flickering streetlamp. "What about my car?"

I raise a judging eyebrow at it. "You'll come back tomorrow to get it," I explain, opening the door for her.

"I have a busy weekend," she insists. "I don't know when I'll be able to get it back."

Why must she be so difficult all the time? "Give me your keys."

She obeys, and I walk up to the valet at the hotel's entrance. "When does your shift end?" I ask him.

"In three hours, sir."

I pull out my wallet, grab three hundred in cash, and extend it to the man. "Can you take that car over there back to Genesee when you're done?"

"Uh, sure, sir."

"Perfect."

He uses the valet ticket pad to write down the address, and I hand him the key and the cash as I give him more instructions.

"What was that about?" Andrea asks when I return.

"He'll bring your car back to your place when his shift ends."

"What about the key?"

"In your mailbox."

"What if he steals my car?"

"Have you seen the state of it, Andrea? It's not worth losing a job over. Hell, it's barely worth the three hundred I gave him. Now, get in."

She pouts but says nothing as she sits down in the passenger seat. With a few taps on the screen between us, I set the GPS to her address, and we're off.

The drive to her place is silent, and she doesn't try to turn the radio on this time. It's so tense and awkward that I realize I should have let Kev and Shelly take her home. They live ten minutes away from her place, and they wouldn't have been tempted to gaze at her alluring profile every few seconds. And maybe she wouldn't have looked so eager to get out of the car, as if being stuck in here with me is torture .

But when I stop in front of her building, she doesn't rush outside like last time. So, I turn off the ignition and wait. We stay there for a few seconds, unsure how to break the silence.

She's the one who does. "Thank you for the ride— again ," she says, keeping her eyes up front. "And thank you for making sure my car gets home. I'll pay you back on Mond—"

"Don't worry about it."

For once, she doesn't insist. "Sorry for drinking too much. I'm not used to servers topping up glasses all the time."

"It's fine."

Still, she doesn't exit the car, twisting her fingers on her lap, hesitating. I should tell her to go. I should tell her it's late, I'm tired, and she needs to go. Staying here with her so close is harder than it should be. There's no one in sight, and the utter silence makes me feel like we're the only two people in the world. And she's wearing a pretty dress, and I've been dying to do something about it all evening.

Again, her soft voice breaks through the stillness in the car. "I know you don't like me because I annoy you and all. But I really appreciate what you did for me and how you made sure I wasn't getting scammed. I would have made mistakes otherwise," she says, audibly nervous. "So, thank you, Alexander, for helping me out regardless of our differences."

It doesn't feel right to let her think that I dislike her. And not just because it's false, but because I can't bear the idea.

For the first time since we stopped, I turn and look down at her. "You don't annoy me," I assert after several seconds have passed. "You frustrate me."

"Because I'm annoying," she insists.

I should let her think that. It's so much simpler that way. But I can't stop myself from saying, "No."