Chapter 19
Jamie
On the short walk to the restaurant, my palms itch to take Aubrey’s hand. I've been acting on instinct and impulse since I got here and need to get my head on straight. It’s reckless, and as she pointed out, it could ruin more than one career if we aren’t strategic.
She’s nervously blabbering about various restaurants and stores we pass that she recommends, but I couldn’t care less about any of it.
Back home, I was always on a strict budget to save to travel, never eating out more than once a week.
There is no use in changing my habits now that I’m here, and I intend on resuming my weekly meal prep to keep expenses to a minimum.
Except Aubrey not only comes from money; she married into it too.
I have no desire to be a millionaire, live in a large apartment, or spend my hard-earned money on anything more than the necessities.
For this to work, she’ll need to be okay with me getting creative when it comes to dates.
Dinner and coffee are great for conversation, but I also want to explore the city with her—museums, parks, local festivals, all of it.
Most of our time together when she was in Canada was spent with me between her legs or in settings where we had to focus on work-related discussions in case anyone overheard us.
Not much has changed, and I won’t be able to take her on a proper date where I pick her up, take her out, or kiss her goodnight at the end.
We’ll have to be careful, but it’s a small price to pay to win over the girl of my dreams.
I open the door to the restaurant for Aubrey and as she walks past me, I get a waft of her perfume.
It’s different than I remember, more floral, almost like the rose garden I walked through today.
I want to slink my arm around her and bury my face in her neck to breathe it in.
Maybe I’ll indulge myself later. For now, I need to keep my hands—and nose—to myself.
We make our way to the host stand and I give them my information, then a man dressed similarly to me leads the way to a table tucked in the corner, lit only by a few tealights in holders.
While the menu gave me the impression this would be more of a casual dining experience, this doesn’t feel like the sort of restaurant you’d come to for a dinner meeting with a colleague.
But if anyone asks, I’ll plead ignorance being new to the area.
We open our menus, and after a quick scan, Aubrey announces, “Would you like to split something?”
“Are the portions big here?”
“No, it’s just that—okay, this is going to sound stupid—but do you remember the night we met?”
“Yeah.” I nod, but also how the hell could I forget? I’ve been obsessed with her from the moment she slid onto the barstool.
“Well, that night, I was thinking about how I missed dining with someone so I could share a meal with them.”
“You’re already eating for two, and I’m starving, so why don’t we get an appetizer to share, maybe a side salad or soup, then we can split a main course and dessert?”
“That sounds perfect.” A wide smile splits her face, and I don’t think I’ve seen her this relaxed since I arrived in California—with the exception of our short time in a supply closet this afternoon.
She continues to peruse the menu when a server approaches. “Good evening. My name is Walter. Can I get you two started with drinks?”
He looks at me expectantly, but I gesture for Aubrey to start. She hums to herself before replying, “May I have an unsweetened iced tea with lemon?”
“I’ll have the same. Actually, could I do half iced tea and half lemonade?”
“Of course.” Walter nods as he writes it down. “Did you need a few more minutes with the menu?”
“Yes, please.”
He leaves and Aubrey whispers, “You could’ve ordered a Long Island iced tea or something.”
I lean forward to whisper back, “The woman I’m dating can’t drink, so I’m not going to.”
“It’s really okay, I don’t mind.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Ms. Raine?”
“No,” she chuckles, a light blush tinting her cheeks. “But I don’t want you to feel like you can’t enjoy yourself because I’m not drinking.”
“I don’t need alcohol to enjoy your company.”
My comment leaves her speechless, and I love how since we met I’ve occasionally been able to wear down her tough exterior. She avoids the praise by focusing on the menu, and I take a second look. Everything sounds amazing, but I’m not sure what foods she’s avoiding.
“I’d suggest a medium-rare steak, but something tells me your doctor would advise against it.”
Aubrey huffs a small laugh. “Yep. Also, no sushi, no deli meat, no brie—which should be illegal because I’d give anything to take a bite out of a wedge right now.”
“What are your cravings other than cheese? Anything standing out?”
“Hmm… the portobello fries sound good. Ooh and the fried chicken sandwich, but that doesn’t sound like something we could split.”
“Order it. Whatever you don’t finish, I’m sure I will.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffs. “You can’t eat fries, a salad, your own entree, some of mine, and dessert.”
“I’m a hungry boy; I worked up an appetite today.”
Aubrey pins me with a glare over her menu. “That doesn’t burn calories.”
“Sure it does. Also, I went to the gym this morning, and my hotel is a fifteen-minute walk. And I may need my energy tonight.”
“That’s quite presumptuous of you, Mr. Wilson.”
I keep my attention on the menu as I correct, “I don’t know where you live, but if it’s close, once I ensure you’re home, I may walk back to the hotel instead of getting a rideshare.”
“Wait a minute.” She drops the menu onto the table. “Did you say hotel?”
“Yeah, the moving trucks won’t be here until Friday. Don’t worry, it didn’t come out of the Governor’s budget.”
“That’s not…” She shakes her head. “Jamie, you can’t stay in a hotel for a week.”
“Why not? You did at the summit.”
She’s about to argue with me when Walter appears with our drinks. “Did you need a few more minutes?”
“Um, I think we’re ready,” Aubrey replies, looking at me expectantly. I reply with a nod. “I’d like the watermelon and tomato salad, and the chicken sandwich with extra aioli, please.”
“And for you?”
I double-check the menu before I answer. “We’ll also start with the portobello fries, and I’ll have a Caesar salad… and the bolognese, please.”
“Got it.” He scribbles it on his pad and takes our menus, then helps the table to our right.
“There is no way you are going to eat all of that.”
“I’m hotel-living the rest of the week and the room only has a small fridge and a microwave. Any leftovers will be dinner tomorrow.”
“You sound just like Olivia. Oh! The hotel. No, you’re not staying there,” she insists matter-of-factly.
“Hate to break it to you, but yes I am.”
Aubrey glances around, then keeps her voice low as she demands, “Stay with me.”
“Inviting me to move in on our second date? Very bold of you.”
“I promise I’m not,” she laughs. “I have a two-bedroom apartment close by. If you’re more comfortable, you could stay in the spare room, and you’d have access to my kitchen until your movers arrive.”
“Do you honestly believe that I would sleep anywhere other than in your bed with you if I’m there?”
After squeezing her lemon into the iced tea, she takes an excruciatingly long sip, speaking into her glass, “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes, it would. You expect me to stay with you this week, falling asleep with you in my arms after I make you come so many times you’ve lost count, waking you up with my face between your thighs each morning while you moan my name, then be able to sleep alone Friday night?
Or is that your big plan? To make me so addicted to you that I never leave? ”
“I just don’t want you to stay in some hotel.” She waves her hand dismissively. “You deserve better. Speaking strictly from a professional perspective, of course, I need you well-rested. Can’t be well-rested while sleeping on a hard hotel mattress, right?”
“Why do I think you’re just hung up on the orgasms and tongue-lashing?”
Aubrey sinks her teeth into her bottom lip to mask her smile. “Nope. It’s strictly a professionally selfish offer. Olivia would agree.”
“I don’t know her that well, but she doesn’t seem like the type of person who would condone our cohabitation, even if it was for a week.”
“It won’t even be a full week,” she reminds me with a faux exasperated sigh. “Think of it this way, you’ll be helping to limit energy consumption.”
“Just say you want me in your bed, and I’ll consider it.”
After she takes her time to pretend she’s contemplating her options, she admits, “I want you in my bed.”
“Playing house is a little dangerous, don’t you think?”
“It’s not playing house, we’ll be… roommates.”
Walter, the perfect distraction that he is, drops off our appetizer, giving me a moment to think.
Unfortunately for me, he only adds hand-grated parmesan to the fries before rushing off.
When we ordered them, I assumed they would be potato fries with minced or sliced mushrooms as more of a garnish.
Instead, they’re large slices of portobello that are battered and fried.
I’ve never been a huge fan of mushrooms, but I’m always willing to try something once.
We each take one, dipping it into what appears to be a garlic sauce, thinner than aioli.
She lifts hers in a cheers and we tap them together before taking a bite.
I’m pleasantly surprised by the flaky texture of the batter and how the mushroom flavor isn’t overwhelming.
Aubrey lets out a soft moan, which unfortunately has my dick’s attention.
No matter how much I want to, staying with her would be a mistake.
Next week we’ll be traveling down to Bakersfield by train, then flying to San Diego.
It won’t be like the summit in a large hotel with hundreds of guests where we could easily sneak away.
I won’t be able to flirt with her, touch her, kiss her…
If this is going to be our dynamic for the foreseeable future, I’m not sure I’m okay with it long-term.
I need a chance to think this through. “I’ll be right back.”
Making my way to the restroom, I recount our time together in Ottawa.
When we weren’t attending meetings, we always found each other.
Sometimes for coffee, sometimes for dinner, but I hated how every time I saw her, all I wanted to do was touch her.
It wasn’t even sexual. The need to have her near me was unbearable.
Quitting a job on my first day would be reckless, but how the hell am I supposed to work with her when I want her like this?
Once in the restroom, I brace myself on the counter, staring at my reflection.
The move to California was supposed to be so I could meet my father, not chase after a woman.
We should take this slow if we want it to last. I splash water on my face, then dry my hands and pat the excess water from my cheeks.
As I’m walking out, I pass by several tables, and a woman stops me. “Excuse me, could I get another martini?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t work here.”
Her gaze drops down to my shirt, then back up to my face. “Could you find my server then?”
“I’m actually here having dinner with someone and don’t work here. I’m sure they’ll be by soon.”
She doesn’t apologize as I return to the table. As I take a seat, Aubrey asks, “What was that about?”
“Nothing. She just needed another martini.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, she thought I worked here.”
Aubrey sputters a laugh. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I was, but no, even after I told her, she asked if I could find her server. Lesson learned: don’t wear all black when going out to dinner.”
“That might be a good idea. But speaking of clothes…” She dips one of the fries in the sauce, then her eyes snap up to mine as she takes a small bite. “Do you want to stop at the hotel for your suitcase after this?”
“Why do you really want me to stay?”
She pauses for a moment too long, and maybe I’ve read this all wrong. This beautiful creature in front of me could just be using me, maybe to get over her ex-husband, maybe to prove she has power… I don’t know, but I hate it.
I’m milliseconds from getting up to leave when she admits, “I like you.” Her words are soft, but keep me in my seat.
“That’s what scares me—and also pisses me off.
I was prepared to move on with my life as a single mom, because I gave up on men.
Then I met you. A friend of mine told me today that I needed to be careful, and I will be, but I’d like it to be like the week I was in Ottawa, where I can be myself after a long day of helping Olivia run the fourth largest economy in the world.
Because at work, I won’t be able to sit next to you without my entire body feeling like it’s on fire, and when you look at me like”—she points at me with her fry—“that! When you look at me like that, I forget my own damn name.”
“And how exactly am I looking at you?”
“Like I’m special,” Aubrey quietly admits. She then sits back and clears her throat, spotting Walter delivering our salads. Like before, he sets them on the table without a word.
Fuck the deal we made, I reach my hand across the white linen for hers. When she places her hand in mine, warmth spreads in my chest, and I assure her, “Because you are.”
“I’m not, but will you stay with me this week?”
“I won’t want to leave.”
She squeezes my hand a little tighter. “And I won’t want you to, but next week we’re traveling, and with the schedule they’re proposing, we’re going to be gone more days than we’ll be here in the next few months.”
The likelihood that someone is paying attention to us is slim to none, so I risk bringing her knuckles to my lips before releasing her hand. “Tonight, I’m going back to the hotel, and if you still want me to stay with you tomorrow, then I will.”