Chapter 12
Maria
M y eyes bounced around the restaurant, excitement fluttering in my stomach as I took in the elegant decor. I’d been to nice restaurants before, but nothing this fancy.
There were no bright strobe lights or loud classic rock music that I had to shout over to be heard. Not that my dates cared one lick of what I had to say.
Instead, Da Vinci's Grove had an ambiance that screamed, “Our cheapest food option starts at thirty dollars.” Low lights, candles on the table—real candles, not those LED ones that staff didn't bother to change once the battery ran out—and if you listened carefully, soft classical tones played through the discreet speakers.
Patrons sat at white cloth tables, all dressed immaculately. Women wore their finest dresses or pantsuits, and not a single male wore a polo shirt or shorts. They matched their partners with suits and smart-looking dress shirts that shimmered under the low lights.
I glanced down at my own attire, relieved that I chose another conservative number. I was used to living bold and provocatively—low-cut tops to draw attention to my generous breasts, short skirts and shorts to showcase my long legs. I’d kept my hair long and perfectly shiny—for some reason it made men want to yank it as they shoved my throat over their cocks or pounded me roughly from behind.
My green cocktail dress covered my chest completely and fell respectively just above my knees. My makeup was light and subtle, and I styled my choppy lob with just the barest of waves. I thought it accentuated my high cheekbones and brought out the sparkle that had been dead in my eyes for a while.
I gazed across at Brian, taking in his dimpled smile and soft brown eyes—eyes that never dropped below my chin. He was the reason the sparkle returned.
Admittedly, I had a wobble this week when I suspected that Brian was pulling away. We had such an unexpected and wonderful lunch together in my office. My cheek tingled all day from where he stroked it before leaving. He even texted me before leaving work, promising to call me that night.
But then…nothing.
I waited until midnight for his call to come through before my heavy eyelids naturally fell closed.
When I woke to an empty phone, I finally reached out.
Busy. Tired. Phone died.
For some reason, those excuses didn't ring true. Was it because I started to question him about his late wife? I’d been in two minds on how to broach the subject, so I decided just to ask . I didn't feel any jealousy toward her; that would be stupid. But it was natural to be curious. I’d never dated a widower, so I had no idea where Brian was on the grief scale. Of course, a significant part of me was nosey as hell about the woman he loved enough to marry. When it became clear that Brian was uncomfortable, I immediately backed off.
Throughout the week, his contact was scarce and impersonal. He was definitely not the same attentive and caring person he had been before our lunch. I was a wreck thinking he was done with me.
Thankfully, my worries disappeared when he greeted me with a soft, lingering kiss. His eyes seared my body as they roamed over my form.
"You look fucking incredible," he’d complimented.
A warm, large hand settled on mine, and I immediately turned my palm up to clutch it. I gave Brian a sultry smile as he stroked my hand with his thumb. Sparks of awareness shot down my stomach straight to my pussy; reminding me that I hadn't been laid in a while. And as much as it pained me, I wouldn't be getting any tonight.
I gave an internal indulgent sigh. This is what I deserved. A third date with a respectable and handsome man who kissed me goodbye without trying to stick his hand up my skirt. Someone who talked to me about his day and ordered a meal instead of quickly downing his beer so we could head back to mine for sex. Someone who listened and cared about my opinions.
And bonus points that I wanted to climb him like a tree. It was early days, but I was eighty percent confident that I found that with Brian.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart.
My heart melted at the endearment Brian had started calling me. No longer was I "babe," "sweet cheeks," or the eye roll-inducing "sugar tits." I didn't have to pretend to giggle and simper up at men while my insides twisted that I was again being treated like a piece of ass.
I flashed him a broad smile, genuinely happy to be here. With him. "I'm fine. I've always wanted to come here. Thank you for bringing me."
He squeezed my hand. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I've enjoyed spending time with you."
He licked his lips before speaking again, but my eyes were drawn to his full bottom lip. I almost broke my “celibate until commitment” rule when I kissed those lips after our first date. The man knew how to kiss. Which meant he hopefully knew his way around the female body.
But more than his physical attributes and possible bedroom skills, Brian also gave me those butterfly flutters. I could spend hours talking with him, laughing with him, and not grow bored. I didn't have that douse of ice-cold water down my spine when I tried to get to know a guy, only to realize that his attention was drifting everywhere but at me. Knowing that they were counting down the hours until they could get me on my back or knees.
No such thing with Brian. He made me feel wanted and seen.
"...not ready for anything serious. But I do miss being physical with someone and was hoping that you were open to a purely sexual arrangement."
I blinked as my mind finally moved away from my daydream and focused on his words. I stared at him blankly as he peered at me with a hopeful smile. The more I stared at him, the more his features started to blur as my mind finally computed what he had just said.
My chest rose and fell in rapid strokes as a small rock formed in my throat. That ice-cold water dangled above me, teetering on the edge.
After an extended silent period, the light behind Brian's eyes dimmed, and a look of uncertainty crept in. He glanced to the side before squeezing my hand, probably checking that I still had signs of life.
"Sweetheart?"
That endearment brought me out. I swallowed past the lump and licked my dry lips.
"Wha-what did you say?" I croaked, hoping I had misheard him.
Another glance to the left and right. "Ahh...what part did you miss?"
"All of it." My tone was hard, and I slid my hand out of his.
Brian blinked before leaning back in his chair. "I'm not ready for a relationship after losing my wife. But I am lonely. I was wondering if you would be open to having a purely sexual relationship?"
That ice-cold water tipped over. My hopes and silly romantic notions sizzled and smoked around me.
Tears pricked behind my eyes, and the elation I’d been feeling all night—and since I'd met Brian—sunk like a lead balloon. The shock of such dizzying emotional highs and lows had me shell-shocked.
"You're a beautiful and sensuous woman, Maria," Brian continued.
Beautiful and sensuous? I would've preened under the compliment if he’d said that to me at the start of the night. Now? I knew what he really meant was: "You're hot and look like a slut."
I looked around at all the beautifully made-up women whose partners were gazing at them like they were the center of their universe. I was kidding myself to think I could be one of them.
Idiot. I was such an idiot.
I swallowed hard and glanced down at my half-drunk glass of wine. My hands itched to throw their contents into his stupid, handsome face.
Instead, I grabbed the white linen napkin placed on my lap with a flourish by the smartly dressed waiter, and lightly dabbed my lips before placing it on top of my half-eaten lobster tail.
With a calm I was far from feeling, I grabbed my purse, pushed my chair back, and stood before strolling purposefully towards the exit.
With my head held high.
I ignored Brian's panicked shout of my name, which caused a few patrons to peer curiously our way.
I nodded politely at the ma?tre d' whose eyes shifted behind me, probably to ensure I wasn't doing a runner. I handed him my coat check ticket and waited patiently while he hastily produced my black coat.
By this stage, Brian had caught up with me.
"Maria, sweetheart," he murmured in a low tone as he took my elbow.
He was probably concerned about making a scene. Not wanting to be barred in case he wanted to bring his next "beautiful and sensuous" woman here for a date.
I shifted my elbow away from him and continued towards the double doors. I produced another polite nod at the doorman before stepping out into the cool night air.
I welcomed the temperature change. It helped cool my boiling blood.
"Maria, sweetheart, please talk to me. I didn't mean –"
I jerked away from him and made a beeline towards a group of storefronts. I would call a car back to New Haven from there.
I heard Brian's hurried steps behind me, but I ignored him.
I was done.
Done being the fallback plan. Done being the piece of ass that was only good enough to fuck but not to take out to dinner. Done chasing after men who weren't emotionally mature or emotionally available. Done having my time wasted by men who only saw me as someone to amuse themselves with until their fucking soul mate turned up.
Done.
Ever since I was fourteen, my body had been used for men's pleasure.
No more. I was done.
I glanced at the car service app on my phone.
One minute away.
"Maria, please could we –"
"Sir, we can't let you leave without settling your bill."
"Fuck!" Brian's anguished shout filled the still night, but I didn't care. Although, it did give me satisfaction that he would probably be barred from Da Vinci's for attempting to skip out on the check.
I spied my ride coming down the street and calmly waved it down. With dignified grace, I climbed in and firmly shut the door behind me, murmuring a greeting to the driver. I was proud of how steady I sounded.
As the car took off, I never once glanced back.