Chapter 8
LAILA
This was a mistake.
Every fibre in my being told me that even sitting at the same table as Gabriel was wrong.
If I was really hungry, I could just order room service or go to McDonald’s.
Anything except having dinner with my best friend’s freaking son.
Yet here I was, doing it anyway.
What the hell was wrong with me?
When Gabriel had asked if I would have spoken to him if he approached me at a bar, my first thought was that the chances of that actually happening were practically zero considering I didn’t go to bars any more.
But my second thought was that in the unlikely event that I did and a man like him asked me out, after I’d checked for hidden cameras to be sure it wasn’t a prank, my body would be screaming hell, yeah.
When he’d left the table and I thought he’d gone for good, part of me believed it was for the best because then I could just forget the whole thing had happened and I wouldn’t have to tell Juliette.
But if I was being completely honest, my stomach also sank a little because I was disappointed.
Not just because of how he looked (the man was a god), but also because he was right: I did used to really enjoy our conversations. So when he returned, I was kind of relieved.
And when he said that he thought I was beautiful, I know I shouldn’t have, but I swooned a little. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had called me beautiful and meant it.
Maybe never?
I wasn’t counting the workmen who wolf-whistled and called every woman who walked by building sites ‘gorgeous’ or ‘sweetheart’.
When Gabriel looked into my eyes, he really seemed like he meant what he said. And he seemed genuinely happy to see me like somehow he knew I’d be here. That’d be impossible though.
Anyway, now I’d stupidly agreed to have dinner with him, I had to work out a way to minimise the damage to my friendship with Juliette.
I’d just have to eat quickly. The faster I finished, the quicker I could arrange an emergency meeting with Claude and find a way to get myself out of this mess.
As Gabriel sat down, I waved at the waitress and she came straight over.
‘We’re ready to order,’ I smiled.
‘Of course, Madame. What would you like?’
‘What’s quickest to prepare? The steak frites, the stuffed chicken with herbs or the sea bass with citrus butter?’
‘Quickest?’ She frowned. ‘If you are hungry and are worried about having a long wait for the main course, perhaps I can bring you a starter? We have a foie gras terrine which is popular or grilled oysters?’
‘No. That’s not the reason. I’m in a hurry, so I need to eat quickly and leave.’
‘Oh…’ Her frown deepened. ‘I am not sure, but all of them are very popular and well worth the wait.’
‘We will both take the stuffed chicken,’ Gabriel answered and my eyes bulged.
The waitress looked at me for confirmation.
‘Fine,’ I said.
‘And two glasses of your finest red wine,’ he added.
‘Very well.’
Once the waitress was out of earshot, I turned to face him and almost wished I didn’t.
He looked even better than he did in that photo Juliette had showed me last month.
His olive skin glowed like he’d just got back from sunning himself on a tropical island.
Gabriel’s short dark hair seemed freshly cut, that stubble gracing his face was exquisite, his full lips were divine and don’t even get me started on those forearms.
The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled up to his elbows again and frankly they looked so freaking sexy, they should come with a health warning: Danger!
Staring at these muscular forearms for more than two seconds may cause fanny flutters, extreme dampness in the knicker area, heart palpations, salivation and result in making very bad decisions.
‘I didn’t need you to order for me!’ I said, desperately trying to distract myself from his annoying hotness.
Spoiler alert: it wasn’t working.
‘I could see that you were having trouble deciding and seeing as you are in such a rush to leave, I thought I would save you some time.’ The corner of his mouth twitched.
We sat in silence for several beats. I started fiddling with the serviette. It was thick and luxurious. Must’ve cost a fortune. Like everything else in this place.
Although I wasn’t looking at Gabriel, I could feel his eyes boring into me. I shuffled in my seat.
Eventually I looked up.
‘You’re staring,’ I said.
‘Not staring. Admiring,’ Gabriel said.
‘So is that what you’ve been doing for the last seven years? Studying at charm school?’ I teased, before remembering that joking or any form of enjoyment was not allowed with this man.
Gabriel laughed and I tried not to let the deep rumble affect me.
‘Why? Is it working?’
‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘Even if you went there for ten years, it wouldn’t work because—’
‘I am your friend’s son,’ he finished my sentence and rolled his eyes. ‘If I wanted to speak about my mother I would have just called her. As much as you do not want to accept it, we are on a date, so please can we try and enjoy our evening?’
Guilt rippled through me.
I knew that Gabriel wanted to make the most of the situation. I did too. But I couldn’t reconcile the thoughts racing through my head right now. How was I supposed to sit here and make small talk when I was betraying my friend?
And not just any friend. My best friend.
The same amazing friend who paid for me to come here in the first place.
At the same time, although I owed nothing to Gabriel, I hated the thought of him sitting here in this big fancy restaurant and eating alone.
This was such a mess.
But I had to do the right thing.
I had to be loyal to my friend.
‘I’m really sorry, Gabriel.’ I slid my handbag on my shoulder. ‘You still seem like a lovely guy, but I can’t pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not. I have to go. Do you want us to leave together so it doesn’t cause a scene?’
‘Cause a scene?’ His brows knitted together with confusion.
‘Yeah. If I leave, people might start staring and wondering what happened and I don’t want them to gossip about you,’ I said, my stomach tightening.
A soft chuckle slipped from Gabriel’s mouth.
‘Do you think that I am the kind of man who cares what other people think?’
‘I… I have no idea. I don’t really know you.’
‘And you have an opportunity to change that, right now.’
‘I… I just can’t.’ I stood up, knowing that if I didn’t start making my way to the exit, I might chicken out.
‘I’m sorry. It was lovely seeing you again.
’ The words froze on my tongue because I wasn’t sure if that was even true.
Then I decided that it was. It just would’ve been better if it was under more platonic and above-board circumstances. ‘Good luck with everything.’
Gabriel looked at me with a strange expression.
It wasn’t shock, rejection, disbelief or defeat like I would’ve expected, because that was definitely how I would’ve felt if someone was about to ditch me at a dinner table minutes after the start of a first date.
My stomach tightened again and I felt sick with guilt.
I hated that I’d been put in such an impossible situation.
Could the expression on Gabriel’s face have been nonchalance? Not that he didn’t care if I left because he wasn’t interested in me. It was more like he heard everything I said, but wasn’t convinced.
‘Very well,’ he nodded. ‘I understand.’
‘Good.’ My shoulders loosened.
I’d misread his expression. Of course he was fine. A man like him could click his fingers and a thousand other women would come running. It wouldn’t be difficult for the hotel to find an alternative match.
Shame it wouldn’t be the same for me. I couldn’t imagine an army of men queuing up to date a forty-something woman who was no longer in her prime.
‘You are still in shock,’ Gabriel said. ‘You need time to process, so when you have had time to reflect, I look forward to hearing from you.’ He reached in his pocket and pulled out his mobile. ‘Unlock your phone and go into WhatsApp,’ he commanded.
‘What?’ I frowned. ‘Why?’
He tapped on his screen and opened the app.
‘Scan this.’ He pointed to a QR code. ‘It will send you my number.’
I frowned, thinking I had no idea that was even a thing. Before I knew it, I was following his instructions. Seconds later his details popped up on my screen.
‘There.’ He slid his phone back in his pocket. ‘Now when you are ready to continue our date, you will know how to reach me.’
‘But I won’t,’ I said firmly. ‘I told you. I can’t go ahead with this. I need to make that very clear.’
‘Do not worry. It is very clear. I will not pursue you. I will respect your decision and wait for you to get in touch. If you decide to leave this amazing opportunity we could share together behind and return to London because you want to allow your friend to dictate your life, I will not understand your desire to let her control your happiness, but I will accept it. But if you choose to be in charge of your own destiny and want to enjoy two weeks in this beautiful city and discover more about Paris and me – the man that some of the most respected matchmakers in the world have selected from thousands of applicants because they are certain that I am your ideal man – then I will be here, ready to join you on this exciting adventure. And to prove the experts right.’
As my jaw dropped, Gabriel flashed a confident grin.
English wasn’t his first language and he was only in his late twenties, but I couldn’t deny that he really did have a way with words.
He was more articulate than people twice his age.
And his little speech almost convinced me to stay.
Almost.
But my common sense and loyalty were still firmly intact.
‘Is everything okay here?’ Claude approached us.
‘No,’ I said, stepping out from the table. ‘I need to cancel my dinner order because I’m leaving. I was just about to come and find you. We need to talk.’