Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
PIPER
If I thought I could avoid Levi by staying away from him, I was wrong. If I thought being on opposite sides of the building would help, I was wrong about that, too.
Because here he is, standing by the window of the office I share with the other admin assistants. He has his hands in his pockets in that cool laid-back way.
Though his back is turned to me, I can imagine that cocky smirk on his face.
I didn’t see him yesterday, so I thought he’d moved on from the idea of me.
Despite my mantra about distance, part of me was a little sad. Now that he’s here, my entire body is in a frenzy.
I stop at the doorway, my pulse hammering in my ears.
How did he know I’d be here so early? Maybe he didn’t and just came in to wait. Is there any point in wondering if he’s waiting for me?
I’m sure he is. I can feel it.
I came in slightly early to get a head start. I’m not so sure that was a good idea.
I’m just glad no one else is here yet. Which means we’re alone. That’s not good either.
I’m not moving, but I know he knows I’m there. The moment the thought lands, he turns his head to the left, not quite looking at me, just enough for him to see me.
Then the air becomes charged, stretched too tight between us before either of us even says a word.
“I never knew the view from the side of the building was like this,” he says, turning back to the window. “It’s a good view of the river.”
I step forward then. He turns to face me, a tentative smile on his face.
“Did you really come in here to look at the river?” I keep my voice soft on purpose.
“No.”
“What are you doing here?” I walk over to my desk and set my bag down, then straighten to face him.
“Came to see you.”
My nerves tingle and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Did I see this coming? Maybe. It wouldn’t have prepared me any better. “Why did you want to see me?” The question almost feels strange, but it cuts to the chase.
“Maybe I’m still back at Wicked Dares and the game didn’t end for me.”
“Maybe it should, given the fact that we now work together.” And the memory of his mouth tasting me keeps ambushing me in the middle of every thought.
“Hmmm. You’re right. That does make things a little awkward.”
“I… never expected to find you here.” I bring my hands together. “You didn’t exactly tell me how successful you were.”
“You didn’t ask me.”
I bite back a smile. “Fair point. I guess I thought the club was enough.”
“Is money a turn-off for you?” He eyes me with that curiosity that makes him seem more alluring.
“No.” There is no girl on earth that would be turned off by money.
“Good. Then go to dinner with me.”
My eyes widen. Dinner? He wants to do dinner.
I’m not a nervous person, but everything about this guy has been the exception.
If this was years ago, I would have accepted straightaway. There’s no doubt that I like him. And dinner is harmless. Current me still thinks it’s harmless—for the most part—and I want to have the same seize-the-moment mindset I had back at the club and say yes. But I think better of it.
Liking him is exactly the problem, which sounds weird as hell. I’m sure that most women who have one-night stands with a guy like him would be jumping for joy at an invite to dinner. Levi Vale is a billionaire and sexy as hell.
The problem is me.
I want distance because I’m not ready. Not ready for whatever this could turn into.
The one night was a spur-of-the-moment decision. So was going home with him. It was like an adventure that doesn’t quite work in the real world.
He’s looking at me with expectancy, waiting for an answer. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna turn me down.”
“Sadly, I am.”
“Woah, I’ve never been turned down before.” He feigns surprise. “Must be losing my touch.”
I smile a little. “No, it’s not that. I’d love to go. I can’t right now.”
He gives me a thin stare and lifts his chin. “You don’t sound so certain to me.”
Because I’m not. I’m simply playing it safe. “The other night was great, but I moved to New York for a fresh start. I should be focusing on that.”
“Then one friendly dinner is a great place to start.”
“One friendly dinner?” There’s nothing about him that suggests he wants anything friendly.
He steps away from the window and moves closer, stopping a breath away from me. His cologne and the deep masculine scent of him wrap around me instantly, making it harder to remember every sensible reason I should be saying no.
“One friendly dinner.” He holds up one finger. “The kind of dinner where you can go home after if you wish. And I may not bother you again.”
Okay. That does sound doable and of the platonic nature. And I can hear Alexis’ voice in my head telling me to accept.
“One dinner?”
“Think of it as a goodbye dinner. Something to give us closure.”
“Closure?”
“You left before I woke up.”
“I thought I was supposed—”
“No. Or I wouldn’t be here.” The certainty in his voice grips my insides. He inclines his head, and a grin slides over his lips. “I’ll send a car for you when you finish work.”
“Today?” I straighten. “You want to go to dinner today?”
“Yes. See you later.” He winks before he backs away.
He walks through the door, and I wonder how I went from planning to put distance between us to agreeing to a dinner date.
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving silence rushing into the space he occupied.
It’s just dinner. One dinner date.
That’s it. Then no more. After tonight, I’ll go back to focusing.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe we both need closure. Whatever that means.
* * *
The moment I sink into the back seat of the Maybach, it feels like I’ve stepped into a different world.
Everything is too smooth. Too luxurious.
It’s six forty-five. I did some overtime to finish up the files I’d been sorting through, but the driver was waiting for me at the office door the moment I signed out of my computer.
It’s nice, but I’m having that Alice in Wonderland feeling again, still wandering down the dark rabbit hole, trying to feel my way through.
Nothing about this feels like my life.
Men like Levi Vale don’t usually show up in my world. And women like me definitely don’t end up climbing into Maybachs on a Wednesday night.
The city passes by in an array of colors, glowing in the waning sunlight. I stare through the window watching it all, wondering what this dinner date is going to be like.
We get stuck in a little traffic but are eventually moving again. Half an hour later, the car glides to a stop outside a restaurant in the West Village.
Casa Virelli. Italian.
The building is gorgeous and almost hidden like a secret place you only know if you know.
The driver gets out and opens the door for me, then leads me inside the restaurant.
We walk into soft amber light and the scent of herbs and fruity wine.
Low conversation drifts through the restaurant while glasses clink somewhere deeper inside. Despite the elegance, there’s a coziness about the place. It’s almost intimate. Like the restaurant was designed for secrets and stolen touches.
The ma?tre d’ appears at the reception desk and smiles warmly like he’s been expecting me.
“Welcome to Casa Virelli,” he says in a hearty voice. “Follow me.”
“Thank you.”
Before I go, I bid a quick thanks to the driver, who gives me a polite nod, then I follow the ma?tre d’.
As he leads me past the main dining area, my pulse picks up. So do my thoughts. I don’t know what to expect from this dinner date.
What do you do when your one-night stand asks you out? Can I even call him that anymore? Though technically, he is. Our situation is just a little… complicated because we work together. And then there’s me with my reservations.
The tables grow fewer and the area becomes more secluded.
Tucked behind a low partition, framed by dim lighting, is a lone table. Levi Vale sits there, looking like he stepped straight out of something unreal. Dressed in full black in a button-down shirt that shows off his solid biceps, he makes everything else in the room feel small and irrelevant.
The moment his gaze meets mine, butterflies take flight in my stomach.
And the look he gives me… it’s like the rest of the room only started existing now that I’m here.
He stands before I reach the table and pulls out a chair for me with a radiant smile on his face.
“Butterfly,” he greets me, his voice dipping low on the last syllable.
“Hi, there.”
I sit and fold my hands in my lap. Levi resumes his place opposite me, and the ma?tre d’ signals to the waiter, who swiftly brings a bottle of wine over to us.
Levi watches me while the waiter uncorks the wine and pours us each a glass.
“We’ll be ready to order in a few minutes,” Levi tells him.
“Certainly,” he replies and saunters away.
“Enjoy your evening. We are at your service,” the ma?tre d’ says, handing us two menus. “Let us know whatever you need.”
“Thank you, Raul,” Levi answers.
Raul dips his head and leaves us.
“This place is amazing,” I beam, looking around at the beautiful décor. It looks authentic European. I hardly feel like I’m in New York anymore. And I may be underdressed in my camisole top and pleated skirt.
“Glad you like it.” Levi winks. “Though I realized I should have asked if you liked Italian food. I was hoping you would.”
“I love Italian food. Apart from takeout pizza; I haven’t had anything decent in a while.”
He grins back. “Well, you’re about to have some of the best in New York. This place is great because it tastes like homemade food straight from Italy.”
“That sounds really good.” I rest my hands on the table and decide I should try to relax. “It also sounds like you have experience with homemade Italian food.”
“I do. My family has an interesting mixture of Italian and English roots. Though there are more relatives on the English side, we’re obsessed with anything Italian.”
“I’m genuinely intrigued by that. Now, that’s interesting. My family were… mostly farmers, all from Tennessee.”