Chapter 11 #2
This wasn’t just exclusive. This was exclusive exclusive. The kind of place that didn’t advertise because it wasn’t for regular people. You didn’t get to walk in unless you were someone or pretending to be someone’s girlfriend. Whether I belonged or not, I bet this place had a killer dessert menu.
There, at a corner table with a perfect view of the entire space, was Dane, looking like a delicious slice of rhubarb pie, begging to be devoured.
Hmm. I might be hungrier than I thought. Maybe I’ll get an appetizer too. Something light.
Dane was looking at his phone, swirling a glass of amber liquid. He looked completely at ease in this space in a way I absolutely did not, with his dark pants and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Then he looked at me in the golden light.
Our eyes met across the restaurant and locked in, like neither of us could look away. Then his gaze traveled from my eyes to my coat to my boots and back up again. The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was standing there naked.
He set down his phone and stood, and suddenly he was walking toward me, and I forgot how to breathe.
“Ina,” he said when he reached me, and his voice was softer than it had been on the phone. “You made it.”
“I told you I would.”
He gestured at my coat. “Let me take that.”
I let him help me out of my coat and hat, hyperaware of the way his fingers brushed my shoulders, the way he handed both items to the suited man who escorted me in.
Dane’s hand found the small of my back, just like in the commercial, and guided me through the restaurant. I was acutely aware of every eye on us, every whispered conversation that paused as we passed.
When we reached the table, he pulled out my chair, like a proper gentleman. I sank into it, feeling lightheaded. If it was a dream, I hoped I wouldn’t wake up any time soon.
Dane settled into his own chair across from me, and within seconds a server appeared with a glass of red wine and set it in front of me.
“I hope you like red,” Dane said, watching me over the rim of his whiskey glass. “If not, they have all kinds of drinks. It’s one of their specialties.”
I took a sip and it was like silk. “It’s amazing,” I managed. “Thank you.”
“Good.”
“So,” I said, taking another sip of wine for courage. It took real effort not to smack my lips. “This is the first date?”
He nodded. “Lucas’s team is here. Not in the restaurant, but outside. They’ll get photos of us arriving and leaving together. Nothing invasive, just enough to establish that we were here.”
My nose wrinkled. “They’re not listening in, are they? I don’t consent to being recorded.”
Dane cracked a smile. “This is off the record, senator.”
“Are people watching us in here?” I asked.
“Probably.” He gestured vaguely behind me. “You’re sitting with your back to the room, which means I can see everyone and you can focus on me. It also means anyone looking over will see you in profile but won’t be able to catch your expression unless they’re very obvious about it.”
“You’ve thought this through.” I raised my glass to him. “You should have been a spy.”
“Lucas gets all the credit for that. I’m just following his plan.”
I took another sip of wine, feeling some of the tension in my shoulders starting to ease. The wine was helping. Would it be rude to ask for a bottle to go? I dismissed the thought. Not on the first date.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
I laughed. “I thought I wasn’t but I’ve been drooling since I walked in here.”
I didn’t tell him I’d been drooling for him. Also for something sweet but mostly for him.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Obviously it’s on me. This whole thing is on me. You’re doing me a favor by being here.”
“It’s not problem,” I said, looking around. “Just maybe give me more warning than twenty minutes. And maybe make it clear what kind of dress code we’re working with.”
He leaned back in his chair and looked way too relaxed. “That’s fair. I know this was last minute. I just figured we needed to talk, now that we’re official.”
I liked the sound of that, being official with him.
Stop that! He’s your boss!
“Right, so where do we start?” I asked. “What do I need to know about Dane Kavanagh, dashing bachelor ruling over his empire of love?”
He snorted and it was almost a laugh. “Please don’t describe me that way. But feel free to ask me anything.”
“Twenty questions. I’ll start easy.” I settled back in my chair, too, feeling bolder now. “Your accent. At the deli. Your voice was different. Did I detect an Irish accent?”
His brows knitted together. “You noticed that.”
“Hard not to when you went from Manhattan CEO to something else entirely in the span of about twelve seconds.”
“I was born in Dublin. My family came here when I was ten. I spent my teenage years trying to hide the accent, to fit in. I worked hard to sound American. By the time I got to college, most people couldn’t tell I wasn’t born here.”
“But it comes back when you’re angry?”
“Or stressed. Or dealing with pushy deli workers who are giving someone a hard time.” He smiled slightly. “I worked hard to train it out, but it’s still there. Underneath.”
“I like it,” I said before I could think better of it.
“Thanks.”
The server came over to take our order. Dane chose for us both without looking at the menu. When we were alone again, the conversation flowed easier than I expected it to.
Turned out, Dane wasn’t so bad.
At some point, I realized I’d forgotten this was supposed to be a performance.
I was just talking to Dane. Laughing with him while we ate the most amazing meal I ever had the pleasure of tasting. I almost forgot he was my boss with the perpetual stick lodged in his ass.
By the end of the meal, I had laughed more than I had in months. And I realized I liked the guy. He was funny in a subtle way.
I was looking forward to fake dating my boss.