Chapter 29
“Areservation for Emily Pinault.”
“This way, please.”
This section of the restaurant was more closed off than anywhere else. It was on the roof and spacious with VIPs who had no complaints about their privacy.
As Emily drew closer, her eyes scanned the place to see two pairs of couples and a small group of friends seated, talking with zeal. She saw the back of a man who lifted his Rolex to look at the time, the only person who was solo.
She could recognize that back anywhere.
Hurried steps were made to reach him.
Nicolas’s gaze met hers with mischief beneath a crinkled eye smile.
He’d somehow made it here before her.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I had to catch up with a friend and time slipped by.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. She had seen an old friend before heading to the café where she unexpectedly ran into her mother.
“No worries, please, have a seat.”
Emily was touched when he pulled the chair out for her. She smiled at that and how he’d kept his promise of joining her. The more Nicolas did stuff like this, the more she saw the differences between him and Jake.
She also couldn’t help but remember how his lawyer said he hated tardiness, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He looked fine—fine indeed.
Her gaze trailed over her husband, licks of heat scorching her cheeks. “You look—” She cut herself off, swallowing harshly. “You look nice.”
The word ‘nice’ didn’t begin to cover it. He looked what Zariah describe as ‘downright fuckable’.
Emily was practically drooling.
She covered her mouth with a hand.
He wore a deep burgundy suit with a white square tucked inside the pockets. The silver glint of his cuff links caught her eyes as he adjusted himself.
Had he changed just for this?
He nodded and dragged his gaze over her body. “Yes, you do look beautiful.”
Damn him.
She bit her lip as her blood burned hotter.
It was second nature to dress up just in case he came. Now that she knew he’d done the same, it oddly felt like they were on a date.
She hid her smile with the same hand still pressed to her mouth.
Nicolas gestured for the waiter to come over.
“Good evening,” the server greeted with a trained smile. “Is the lovely couple ready to place their orders?”
Emily ducked her head, using the menu to shield her face. God, she was acting like a schoolgirl but she couldn’t help it.
Nicolas smirked. “Yes, I’ll have the Sous Vide Butter-Poached Lobster. How about you?”
She peered up when she realized he couldn’t be asking the waiter. “I’ll have the Penne Alfio, please. Oh, and the tomato bread.”
“For the drink, we’ll start with a Brunello di Montalcino. Something with a bit of age, the twenty-tens.”
The waiter bowed and quickly disappeared through the open doors.
Nicolas noticed Emily’s expression. “What are you smiling at?”
Her eyes sparkled with humor. “You really do love your wine.”
“Well…yes,” he admitted. “But I try to keep track of my monthly intake as much as possible. Too much of one thing is never good for the body, you know.”
“I don’t see your body complaining at all.”
He propped his hand on his jaw. “Is this your way of telling me that I’m fit?”
Emily turned her head to see if anyone had heard him. Then she locked eyes with his dark and dangerous ones before tearing her gaze away, glancing down at the table. “You’re no good for my health. You always say things that send my heart racing, and frankly, I don’t appreciate it.”
He snickered, leaning back, his hand removing itself from his face.
“This isn’t something you’re supposed to be saying so early in this relationship,” he said, sounding so serious she almost choked, “Still so many places to see, so much for us to do. You say you’re already feeling faint?
Darling, I promise you this is just the beginning. ”
“Is it just me or is it hot out here?” She fanned the side of her face, trying to change the topic.
“It’s just you.”
Right. It’s almost winter after all.
Still desperate for a switch in the conversation, she reached into her handbag and gave him the gift she’d gotten earlier. It was a small reproduction of The Birth of Venus. The goddess stood poised on a scallop shell, gracefully radiant. She was surrounded by Zephyr, his companion, and Hora.
What made Nicolas freeze wasn’t any of them; it was the signature in the bottom corner.
His eyes widened. “Where’d you get this?”
She couldn’t help but grin at the excitement that slipped through his voice. “I noticed that a few pieces you had looked familiar. Went and confirmed with the source himself.”
“You know the artist Leon Ellis?” he sputtered. “I thought he didn’t do autographs.”
“Sadly, that goofball has been my friend since we worked on a humanitarian project together years ago. He was the artist in charge. I was the global ambassador. The autograph’s a non-negotiable.”
“Wow,” Nicolas blew out, staring down at the artwork. He swallowed, then looked up at her. “Thank you.”
Something similar to pride swelled inside her chest. He’d been the giver this entire time so she was happy to do something for him in return.
As she opened her mouth to tell him it was no big deal, someone cut her off.
“Emily, dear, is that you again?”
Her body stiffened as she whipped around to see her mother. Rather than being alone, this time she was accompanied by none other than her father.
Oh God.
“Emily…” Nicolas’s deep voice drew her attention away from them. “Aren’t they your…”
Juliet and James Pinault observed the man that was having dinner with their daughter keenly.
“My…” She was having a hard time with what was happening right now. “My parents.”
Nicolas stood up fast, standing on firm feet and offering a hand. “Nicolas Re, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Emily’s mother was quick to shake it. “Juliet Pinault.”
On the other hand, her father stood stiffly, arms crossed, his narrowed eyes flicking between them.
Juliet jabbed her husband in the side with her elbow. “James…”
He coughed and took Nicolas’s hand and was sure to give it a mighty good squeeze from the veins that stood out.
James scoffed when Nicolas didn’t even flinch.
“Please, why don’t you join us for dinner?” Nicolas offered when he was set free, making Emily shoot up shouting, “No!”
Everyone looked at her in surprise.
“I mean…” She retracted. “I’m sure they would like some alone time together.”
Nicolas tilted his head, his brows drawn together and his eyes fixed on her with a puzzled intensity that made her shift on her feet. She couldn’t blame him. He was being nice to her parents, but she was shooing them away like they were a nuisance.
He had an idea about their broken relationship, yet he had still given the invitation. What was he trying to do here?
“Actually,” her mother butted in, “we would love to join you.” Then she raised one hand, signaling for a staff member to come over. Emily stood there, completely helpless as her mother did the most Juliet-like thing, she ordered for their seats to be joined.
Nicolas sat back down. His dark eyes followed Emily’s robotic form as she took a seat.
Time passed by in an awkward blur as they picked at their food, making light talk of the weather and politics.
Just as Emily was about to “accidentally” drop her fork and retrieve it to tell Nicolas not to say anything about their marriage, her mother was the first to break the third silence among them. “How do you and Emily know each other…” She trailed off to catch his name.
“Nicolas, but you can call me Nick.”
Emily’s eyes found him at the nickname. It didn’t quite suit him, but maybe she was biased.
“Okay, Nicolas. How do you know my daughter?”
“Mother,” Emily warned but Nicolas answered anyway.
“Darling, haven’t you told them yet?”
“Nic—” she started, her eyes widening in fright.
Please don’t let this be what I think it is.
Nicolas’s posture straightened as he looked her parents in the eyes.
“I’ve been wanting to formally meet you both, but my schedule just hasn’t allowed it.
I know that’s a poor excuse, but with the nature of my job, it stands true.
It doesn’t help that Em here…” He took a hold of Emily’s shaky hand as he gazed down at her in what could be mistaken as lovingly.
“Has also been refusing to let our relationship go public.”
“Relationship?”
He wouldn’t dare to. He wouldn’t dare to. He wouldn’t dar—
“Yes. I’m Nicolas Re, Emily’s husband. It’s a pleasure to finally meet both of you.”
“You’re married?!” her parents shouted in unison.
She dug her palm into her face.
Yes. Yes, he dared to.