Chapter 3 #2
I step out of the car and stroll into the bistro. I’ve never been here before, and I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.
It’s small. Quiet. The kind of place that doesn’t try to impress. And yet it’s welcoming.
A handful of patrons linger at plain, rectangular tables placed haphazardly around the floor. Or perhaps with intention—I’m not sure.
To my right, a raised platform runs along the wall—a built-in booth upholstered in beige. Three round coffee tables break the space. Cozy but communal.
Across the room, a long counter anchors the place. It’s not flashy, but the mismatched mugs on a rail and a chalkboard menu give it character.
The whole place is warm, personal but somehow feels unfinished. Like it hasn’t reached its potential yet.
A halo of red curls catches my attention. I shift my gaze to the swinging door behind the counter. Fuck. I haven’t seen her since the gala, and the sight hits me right in my solar plexus.
A headband holds her hair out of her face, barely taming the mane. She’s wearing a green apron, and if it isn’t the sexiest thing ever, I don’t know what is.
The only improvement would be if she were naked underneath. But then I would have to claw everyone’s eyes out, so I guess the dress is okay.
With minimal makeup, her face is flushed, glistening with a film of sweat. She juts her hip to keep the door open and hands something to the guy behind the counter.
Too distracted by the curve of her breast, and that sexy-as-fuck swing of her hip, I don’t realize she’s spotted me.
When I snap out of my ogling, my gaze collides with hers. Her mouth forms an O, her eyebrows lift. I walk over, my lips curling up.
Not because I’m used to dazzling women with my dimples. It’s not the automated grin I use to manipulate. I’m actually smiling, without forcing it.
“Isn’t this a bit far from your beaten path, Stone?” Cora grins and steps to the counter.
“And how would you know my beaten path? Have you been researching me?”
She snorts. “Researching you? Who does that?”
You would be surprised. How would I know where you work, for example?
I ignore her question. “I came to invite you to a charity luncheon. You proved quite a suitable plus-one last time.”
She laughs. “That’s one enticing invitation. I’m flattered,” she mocks, her hand on her chest for dramatic effect. “When is the event?”
I glance at my watch. “In forty minutes.”
She raises her eyebrows, her eyes twinkling with mirth, but then she frowns. “You are serious?”
“Okay, I recognize it’s kind of short notice, but in my defense, I forgot about the event.” I shrug, taking my smile up a notch.
She folds her arms across her chest. “Are you for real?”
“Always.” That’s a lie, but well, it’s a harmless one.
She studies me, half-smiling, half-frowning, like she is entertained but at the same time not sure what’s going on. That makes two of us. Why am I even here?
I guess she would be a safe and refreshing option to win my bet with Cal.
“And there isn’t a bored socialite who would be happy to join you?”
Now I’m not sure if she’s still mocking me, but based on her glare, I decide to tread carefully. “I’d much rather spend time with someone with more personality.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment. Thank you for your invitation, but I will have to decline.”
What? She might not have succumbed to my charms (yet), but she did enjoy herself at the gala. It was a much-needed break for her. “On the grounds…?”
She shakes her head slowly, a wry smile tugging at her lips, eyes narrowing with a blend of interest and disbelief. “I’m working.”
I look around. Only two people remain here. “Close the shop.”
A snort-like laugh leaves her lips while she shakes her head again, but then her features harden. “You are serious?”
“You asked that already.” Mild frustration edges into my composure. I guess I should have invited a boring socialite.
“I can’t close the shop. I need the revenue.”
I look around the empty place again, and then at her, deadpan.
She turns as if she’s done with the conversation. “The lunch rush hour is about to start.”
“Then you better close now.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
I walk over to the front door and flip the sign to the ‘closed’ side. “Here, easy.” I return to the counter. “Come on, Cora, don’t tell me you don’t want an afternoon off.”
After a few drinks at the gala, she told me how tired she was, and how hard it’s been to run this business. The shadows under her eyes confirm it.
“I can’t take a day off. Some of us have bills to pay.”
One of the remaining customers comes to the counter and settles the bill. Cora’s employee deals with him while I lean closer. Her scent wafts to me, and I almost close my eyes and inhale deeply.
“How much do you make a day here?” I look into her eyes, the emerald green in them gleaming with indignation now.
“That’s none of your business.” She jerks her head back.
I reach into my pocket and throw a wad of cash on the counter. “I will transfer another four K to your account.”
She eyes what must be about ten hundred-dollar bills. “Did you hit your head on the way here?”
“That may be, but you will benefit from it.” Why is she so stubborn?
She purses her lips and pushes them to the side, studying me like she’s trying to decide if I have an infectious disease.
“Come on, Cora. You get a break, you won’t lose money, and we both can have fun.”
She shifts her pursed lips to the other side like she is really chewing on the idea. “As ridiculous and as inappropriately appealing as the idea is, I don’t have a dress to wear for a fancy event.”
She says it as if it’s an obstacle. It’s not. A challenge, maybe, but I always play to win.
“I’m Xander.” I turn to her employee, offering my hand. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Sanjay. Nice to meet you.” He shakes my hand.
“Sanjay, your boss is leaving. Would you mind closing the shop once the couple over there leaves?”
“I didn’t say I’m leaving,” Cora huffs.
“You said my offer is appealing. That’s as good as accepting it.”
“You’re obnoxiously bossy.”
I smirk. “I have yet to get a complaint about that, sweetheart.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Chop-chop, or we’re going to be late.”
“Stop. Right. Now.” She steps back.
“Okay.” I raise my thumb. “One. Do you want to make five K without grinding here?”
She glares at me, but doesn’t negate the point.
I raise my index finger. “Two. Do you want to have an afternoon off while being catered to?”
It takes a moment before she nods—or rather shrugs—reluctantly.
“Three. Do you want to have fun with one of the sexiest bachelors in Manhattan, according to several prominent online outlets?”
She perks up. “What? Why didn’t you tell me Julian Franco is going to be there?” She fans herself, like the fashion-brand heir incinerated her underwear just by existing.
She thinks she can deter me that easily. Game on. “Okay, Coraline, shed the apron, and let’s go.”
She flinches. “My name is Cora,” she snaps, but pulls the apron over her head. “You forgot about the dress.”
“No, I didn’t.” I lean in her direction, offering her my arm.
She bends down and pulls out a monstrous-sized purse before she rounds the counter to snake her arm through mine, a disbelieving smile playing on her lips.
She eyes me with a dose of skepticism. “I feel like a hidden camera crew will reveal the prank any minute now.”
“What prank? This is not high school.” I open the door for her. “What do you carry in that bag?”
“None of your business, pretty boy.”
“You find me pretty.” I unlock the car and she stops, eyeing the ride with an expression that looks anything like the admiration my Lambo usually gets.
“You really are loaded, aren’t you?” We walk to the passenger side.
“Don’t hold that against me.”
She mutters something I don’t hear and sinks into her seat. I lower myself into the driver’s side and rev the engine, showing off just a little.
Cora snorts, shaking her head, but one glimpse at her lit-up face confirms she is enjoying herself.
I’ve never tried to impress a girl—a woman—before, but apparently, around this one, I turn into a desperate asshole.
And I don’t mind it.
“This one is perfect.” I check my watch again.
At this rate, I’d be happy if we make it for the dessert. I might need to increase my fucking donation. Corm will bite my head off; his mother organizes this event.
I tap my foot. We’ve been at the hotel’s boutique for fifteen minutes, and Cora is still in her outfit.
Though I don’t mind it at all. She is wearing a black wrap dress that has a small hole in the side.
She is underdressed, even compared to the shop assistant who is giving us a fake smile, and yet she is a hundred times more attractive.
I have been trying to dissect my irrational attraction to her, but I’m coming up empty-handed. I usually go for tall, leggy types. She is the exact opposite. And yet…
“Did you see how much it costs?” she whispers, the tag dangling between her fingers.
“No. I don’t particularly care. It’s a dress. How much could it be?” I shrug.
“It’s three thousand,” she hisses, and glances at the shop assistant while ducking a bit. Like she can hide from the price.
She acts like it was a hundred thousand. I snatch the dress from the rack. “Do you want it in more colors as well?” I shove the dress into her hands. “Get changed.”
Her eyes widen before she looks at the dress again. She wants the dress, the desire all over her face as she chews on her bottom lip.
I groan. We’re going to miss the whole thing.
“You really are desperate not to show up solo if you’re willing to cash out such an insane amount of money to take me.”
“Insane?” I would pay ten times more to spend time with her, but I just hike my shoulder and take out my credit card. “Just hurry up, finally.”
She shakes her head as she enters the changing room.
“Wow, I didn’t expect this to be such an eventful occasion.” Cora kicks off her heels and leans against the balustrade.
The heat and humidity cling to us on the outdoor patio of the venue. We’re standing under a canvas awning, in the shade, but the sun is still beating down on us.
“And you didn’t want to come.” I lean beside her, shedding my jacket.
“If I had known Declan would punch someone, I would have gotten front row tickets.” She giggles and takes a sip of her cocktail.
Yeah, that happened. My partner caused a scene, but I guess the other asshole asked for it.
“You got front-row tickets.” I turn and lean on my elbow, studying her profile.
Most of the guests have left, with only a few still loitering around, but Cora doesn’t seem ready to dash. And I’m not going to rush her. She seems relaxed and carefree, just like she was at the gala.
The few minutes in her bistro were not enough to judge, but it’s like she breathes with more ease after she steps out of there.
“You’re staring.” She looks at me, rolling the small straw from her drink between her lips.
“You’re beautiful.”
She cackles. “Yeah, I better be in a three-thousand-dollar dress.”
She picked a deep green color. The fitted bodice hugs her torso, and a flared skirt falls just below her knee. The cut is classical, and yet she makes it look sinful.
The neckline is too high for my taste, but fuck if she isn’t sexy wearing it. I should have bought it in all the colors for her.
“You increased its value tenfold.”
“Oh, you’re good.” She grins at me.
And I grin back. This woman makes me feel lighter. Carefree. Liberated.
All the things I’ve been faking. With her, they sneak in uninhibited.
“Let’s go.” I put her drink on a nearby table and take her hand.
“Where?” She snatches her shoes from the ground and lets me lead her back inside, so we can get out of here.
“Since I practically hired you for the rest of the day, I plan to make the best of my time with you.”
“Hired me?” She snatches her hand from mine, glaring. “Fuck you, Xander.”