44. Meg
44
MEG
U ntil this confusion settled into something vaguely manageable, I was going to avoid Byron, so I didn’t dare go back to my office. Instead, I stayed in the library all day.
I’ll leave it to your imagination as to what was going through my mind when he texted me buon appetito signorina Belfiore .
I wanted to discard all my work, march to his office, lock that door behind us, and show Byron Belmont what I really wanted for lunch.
But see how I didn’t.
And let’s not dissect the whirlwind of chaotic emotions when BB casually dropped that he was going out for drinks. What? With whom?
It was the first time in my life that I was curious about what a man did outside of my relationship with him. Well, curious was one way to put it. Jealous was another.
Me, jealous? Ridiculous.
There was also the pressing fact that between BB and Byron, my sexual frustration was nearing DEFCON 1. The dam was about to burst, and knowing my luck, I'd end up with one of them in bed while my mind was lost on the other.
It felt like I was in a bizarre dating game show where the grand prize was an anxiety attack, with a side of meltdown, and the host was my own feverish brain.
When I left Belmont Manor for the day, I was tempted to send Byron a goodbye text, but decided not to. I was tired of acting on impulse, only to regret it later on.
My plan to snap out of this funk was to go to Silver Spoon for a drink or two. Since I was now crushing left, right, and center, what were the chances some handsome devil wasn’t waiting at Silver Spoon, eager to finish the job of driving me completely insane.
My usual approach to a night out was blinging up and putting the sexy back in discreetly bold . Not tonight. I already knew the vibe at Silver Spoon, and decided the dress I was wearing would do fine.
But this time, I snagged the silver chandelier earrings Mimi had so slyly tried to pawn off on me this morning. There was always room for a bit of bling.
“So, you’re like just going to hang out at this place all alone?” Mimi asked, pity radiating from her eyes.
I put the earrings on. “I promised Derek I’d stop by and have a drink.”
Mona looked glum. “Who the hell is Derek?”
“Derek is the barman I know who works at Silver Spoon.”
“Doesn’t sound like I would ever get a Miata if you married him.”
“I’m not marrying anyone. Besides, what’s with you and the Miata, Mona?”
“It’s a cute car.”
“Tell you what, two paychecks from now, we can go look for a used car. I can’t promise a Miata, but I’m sure we can get you some dependable wheels.”
Mona smiled. “Thank you, sis. You’re the best.”
My phone beeped. “My Uber is here. Listen, come up with a plan to get Mom and Pops away for a couple of days so I can get the roof fixed.”
“Why do they have to go away?” Mimi said. “Pops is going to find out anyway.”
“If it’s done, what’s he going to do. Rip the roof off? Just figure it out, okay? Bye, you sexy monsters,” I said, tapping the doorframe as I left.
Mona’s voice rang out after me, “Be good, but if you’re not good, make sure to be good at it.”
My sisters’ laughter echoed behind me, and I left the house with a smile on my face.***
The outside of Silver Spoon was the usual mix of swank and glam, but without Isabel, it wasn’t half as thrilling as before. These people were here to mingle with their rich and snobby peers. It was just not my scene.
One Moscow Mule, and then I was going to head back home. And hopefully BB’s date wouldn’t last too long, so I could have him all to myself for the rest of the night.
A parade of young, model-esque beauties in designer wear strutted past me on their way inside the restaurant. All tall, flawless, and impossibly put together. I felt like the monkey on the evolutionary chart.
Stop it. Since when did I feel inferior to anyone ?
I approached the hostess of Silver Spoon with a smile. She didn’t return the favor. Not that I expected her to roll out the red carpet, but her face said she was about to tell me deliveries were in the back.
“Can I help you?” she asked, giving me a lookover normally reserved for unpleasant sights. Like say, cat puke and retail dresses.
“Meg Belfiore, my name is on the guest list, I believe,” I said, a serene smile gorilla-glued to my face.
With the most surreptitious of eyerolls, her eyes flicked to her iPad, scanning it like she was searching for the meaning of life. “Mac who ?”
My serene smile was now hanging on for dear life. “ Meg Belfiore.”
“I don’t see it on my list. Maybe you’re at the wrong place?”
It wasn’t the words so much as the tone. But I kept it together. “Check again, please. And yes, I’m at the right place.”
She sighed, aggravated, glancing behind her as if summoning backup. “If your name isn’t on the list, I can’t let you in.”
A flicker of annoyance brushed over me, and I leaned in to get a closer look at the gold tag with her name. “And I asked you to check again, Kristen , didn’t I?”
“You really don’t want me to call security,” she said. “I will if I have to.”
I had lost all interest in getting into Silver Spoon. At this point, it was a matter of principle, and there was no way I was backing down to this insufferable wench.
But before we could exchange any more unpleasantries, Kristen’s attention snapped past me like a laser beam, locking on whoever had just made her forget her job.
I refused to look.
Kristen was now messing with the wrong woman. “The cat cut your tongue, Kristen? Hello?”
And what do you think this chick did? She shoved me aside with a casual flick of her hand, like I was a pesky fly. Her fanatical gaze still stuck on whoever was making her fangirl harder than a teenager meeting her boyband crush.
“Mr. Belmont!” she gulped.
No Way.
I swung around. Oh, way .
There he was. Byron, moving toward us with effortless style, a faint smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze exuding that trademark charm that could melt a glacier at five hundred miles.
The pair of azures flicked briefly to the hostess, then back to me, and before I could even blink, his arm was around my waist, his lips slamming onto mine, stealing my breath in one electrifying kiss.
“Meg, you’re here,” he said finally, his voice a velvet whisper tracing my spine.
I whimpered. “I am. Hi.”
Kristen was frozen. Her beaming smile slowly slipping from her face. Her eyes sputtered from me to Byron, and back to me, as if trying to make sense of the scene unfolding before her.
There was a shift in the air.
“Oh, you should have told me…” she stammered. “I’m so sorry.”
Then Byron leaned into her, and in a voice that could cut steel, he said, “If you ever treat my girlfriend like you just did, or anyone else going into Silver Spoon, you’ll be lucky to get a job mopping floors in the restrooms at a research base in Antarctica, do you understand?”
By now, not even the Botox could hide the distress in Kristen’s face. She nodded and even tried on a smile. “Yes, I do. It will never happen again.”
And with that, Byron’s hand landed firmly on my back as he swept me into Silver Spoon.
My bewilderment hit new heights, amplified tenfold by that damned kiss. “I’m sorry, but how did you just show up here?”
“It’s my restaurant, I own it,” he replied casually as a mustached dude in a tuxedo approached, oozing competence behind a fawning smile. “Mr. Belmont, your private room is ready.”
“Thanks Jeff,” Byron said, and as we followed Jeff through the buzz of the room, heads turned. Men and women alike gave us the full-spectrum stare.
There were curious stares, and there were admiring ones, and then there were some women’s stares armed with arrows and poisoned tips.
Byron doled out a nod here, a smile there, bringing home that this was where he belonged. Among these people, I had nothing in common with. But with his hand burning a hole in my back, it was difficult to care about the trivial stuff.
Jeff opened a crystal bead curtain to a room. It was breathtaking, and just big enough as a cozy spot for a couple. It was all soft lighting and luxury, with a plush couch and a candlelit table for two.
“Anything else, let me know,” Jeff said as he was leaving. “Enjoy your evening.”
Suddenly, in this small enclosed space, Byron felt taller, more imposing. And I noticed the butterflies inside me were back in full swing, and I could still feel that kiss burning my lips.
“Wait, did you say you owned this place?” I asked.
He laughed. “That’s a delayed reaction. But yes, I do.”
“Please excuse my confusion, but there’s a lot here to unwrap. First of all, thanks for stopping me from doing something stupid. And I’m sure Kristen would like to thank you too because you saved her from getting a bloody nose.”
“No one treats you like that,” he said. “No one. Consider her fired. I’ll speak to the manager.”
The acoustics in the room were quite something because I could feel Byron’s voice resonate in the base of my spine.
“Nah, I think Kristen learned an important lesson tonight,” I said, noticing how close we were standing. And it didn’t look like he was going to move away an inch.
“Which is?”
“Never underestimate a woman who's wearing a store-bought dress. Because chances are she can knock you flat on your ass, or she might perhaps be acquainted with a Belmont bro… But that kiss, and calling me your girlfriend? ”
“I had to make a point. You don’t mind, do you?”
I was fixated on the way his lips moved when he formed those lethal words. Words that sucked me deeper into the quicksand called this night.
“No emotional scars in the making, if that’s your concern,” I replied bravely, a little whimper leaking from my throat. I was, however, overwhelmed with curiosity. “And you just decided, boom, tonight you’re coming to Silver Spoon?”
He remained unruffled, his gaze never leaving mine. “You didn’t say goodbye today, and I didn’t want to leave things the way we did in the library.”
“But how did you know I’d be here?”
“I feel like I’m on trial. Just stop being a lawyer for a minute, will you?
“Make me.”
I didn’t mean to say it like that . But now it was said, and the air stilled, and Byron was looking at me like I was a glass of cool water at the end of a long hiking trail.
Smolder tinted his voice, and the two azures became inquisitive. “And how does one go about making you do something exactly, Megan? I’d love to know.”
Yes, I blushed. Of course I did. And then all the trouble and confusion that I managed to avoid all day, reported back for duty right then.
I looked up into those blue eyes and spoke my truth. “To be honest, I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, not knowing what the hell is happening.”
His thumb trailed down my cheek. “And I’m just a boy who wants to spend an evening with a girl he likes and discuss a plan he might have.”
“You mean, like a date?”
“Would that be so terrible if it was?”
“You couldn’t have said something earlier…a call, a text? This is the same dress I wore today at work. I mean, I did add the earrings to bling things up—"
But I didn’t get to finish my jabber before he cupped my face and looked deep into my eyes, and by deep, I mean the kind of depth in the ocean the sunlight could never reach.
“I don’t care about the dress, Meg. I’m here because of you. Besides, you look lovely. I don’t think it’s possible for you to look otherwise.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, if you say it like that—
Once again, I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Byron stole the words right out of my mouth, along with my breath.
And let me tell you about this kiss. Now I’d been kissed enough times in my life to know when a man knows how to kiss. This man knew how to kiss.
It was as intense as it was playful, as sweet as it was demanding, and rough as it was gentle. It was Michelangelo chipping away at his sculpture of David, it was Beethoven jotting down the notes of his Choral Symphony, and it was Eddie Van Halen shredding the strings of his guitar.
When we finally pulled apart, my body thrummed with a strange energy, and the sensation from the library came rushing back, stronger this time, not leaving much room for debate anymore.