Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Casual and confident, he steered me into the restaurant. The pressure from his hand was light but very much firm and dominant as he, essentially, took control.
Inside, my brows lifted as I glanced around. This was no casual restaurant. There were no comfy booths, no wall-mounted TVs, no empty tables piled with dirty dishes, no waitresses in mini-skirts.
I also couldn’t see a single kid anywhere. There were lots of classily dressed ladies and well-groomed men. The wait staff here were as smartly dressed as the patrons.
Voices murmured. Silverware clinked. Classical music played softly in the background. With its expensive décor, hanging chandeliers, and crystal dishware, the place was both charming and elegant. The dim lighting and flickering candles also gave it a cozy, intimate atmosphere and softened its snobby edges.
It wasn’t the scents of various foods that dominated the air. It was perfume, cologne, fresh flowers, and burning candles.
My high heels click-clacked on the marble floor as we were led to a table near the large window. A prime spot for sure.
As Dane pulled out my chair for me, he lightly stroked my earlobe and said, “I like the earrings.”
I almost startled at the subtly flirtatious touch. He was smooth, I’d give him that. Remembering to play my part, I made sure my smile was just a little on the flirtatious side as I replied, “Thank you.” I sat on the padded seat, which he then smoothly slid toward the table.
No sooner had he settled on the seat opposite me than he ordered a bottle of red wine, probably remembering it was my drink of preference. He filed everything away in that incredibly perceptive brain.
The waiter handed us menus and then disappeared. Dane slightly adjusted the positioning of the small candles, the floral centerpiece, and the salt and pepper shakers. He wasn’t fidgeting. It was more like he was claiming the space and making it his own.
I scanned the menu, unsurprised that the selections were all gourmet dishes. I’d probably go with the prime rib. Honestly, this wasn’t really my scene. I preferred Italian food. Mostly pizza.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair down before,” he said.
I lowered the menu. “It wouldn’t have been professional to turn up at the office looking like this.”
“Hmm.” His eyes slowly skimmed the length of my hair from the roots to the curled ends. It felt like he’d stroked it.
“I didn’t expect you to bring me here,” I said.
“Why not?”
“I’m usually the one booking dinner reservations for you and your lady friends. This isn’t where you take them.”
“Which is why I brought you here. If this was truly a serious date, I’d take you somewhere different than I took the others, so you’d know I don’t see you as a simple companion for the evening.”
I nodded. “Gotcha.”
The waiter appeared with our wine, took our food orders, and then left.
Dane picked up his glass. “Tell me about your family,” he said.
My stomach twisted. “My family?”
His brow hitched up. “Couples tend to tell each other about their families, yes?”
Ugh. I smoothed a wrinkle out of the white tablecloth. “There’s my dad, Simon—we’re pretty close. I also have my foster parents, Wyatt and Melinda. I see them often.”
“And your biological mother?”
I clenched my fists beneath the table. “I haven’t seen her since I was taken away by social services as a kid. As for siblings, I’m an only child. Plenty came and went over the years I was in foster care, but none stuck around long enough for me to form a real bond with them.”
“Your foster parents don’t have any biological children?”
“They have one. A daughter. Heather’s a few years older than me.”
“But you don’t think of her as a sister?”
After the things she’d done to me, fuck, no. “We’ve never really gotten along. But her son is a sweet kid.” Heather had purposely gotten pregnant by a rich guy and now lived off her child support payments—she actually considered that sneaky move an achievement, like getting a college degree.
Dane raised his glass to me. “Impressive, Vienna.”
“Excuse me?”
“You answered each of my questions without really giving me much information.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Just practicing being vague and evasive—I thought you’d appreciate it.” I sipped my wine. “I know you have two siblings but no nieces or nephews, and I know you lived with your uncle for a short while, but that’s pretty much it.”
Dane was silent for a long moment. “My mother died of cancer when I was young. My father died when I was fifteen. My uncle then took in me and my siblings, but he died of heart failure some years ago.”
I waited for him to expand, silently noting that he hadn’t specified how his father died. But he didn’t say another word. “Now who’s being vague and evasive?”
“There’s not much else to say.”
Not much else he wanted to say, I thought. But I let it go, because there was plenty of information that I’d kept to myself about my own family.