23. Quentin
Even though I’d been eager to hear Rei’s answer to my proposal, my back was stiff and grip tight as I drove myself to Golden Café.
When I arrived, a young valet driver stopped by my car to get my keys, but the thought of handing them over made my stomach knot.
Knowing that I was being spied on didn’t help my trust issues.
Did I really want this stranger in my car, able to plant surveillance devices?
Or worse, cut the break lines to endanger my life?
He's just a kid, I reminded myself. The guy had shaggy blond hair and a piercing in his ear that was tarnishing and leaving a blue ring around the hole. I needed to get a grip, I decided as I placed the keys in his hand. Being so on edge would only lead me to mistakes, and I didn’t want to mess up where Rei was concerned.
As I walked to the Golden Café entrance, cold air bit against my skin. I was ready for the winter chill to give way to a mild spring. Just a few months now, I thought. A security guard stood in front of the door, looking me over.
I flashed him my card, and he nodded, stepping to the side, but I said, “I’m waiting for someone.”
The guard nodded, stepping back in place.
I stood off to the side, in front of the bricked facade, thinking I’d be lucky if Rei came at all. If a practical stranger had made the same proposal to me, I’d get far, far away from that person.
Stubbornly hopeful, I glanced down the sidewalk, expecting to see her coming from the public parking garage on the corner. A sleek back town car approached, and an older gentleman got out, holding the door for someone.
At first I didn’t give them much notice, but the woman getting out caught my attention.
I stared, lips parted as Rei stepped onto the sidewalk looking like a vision in green.
Her short dress brushed her thighs, leaving only a sliver of skin before long black boots took its place and traveled from above her knees to pointed toes.
A matching black trench hung over her shoulders, where golden earrings dangled, almost touching them.
Her hair was down, straight black tresses catching the sun.
When I finally went to see her eyes, they were covered by large black sunglasses. So I turned my gaze to her lips instead, painted in a dark, sinful red shade.
Who was this woman? was my first thought. Followed by, How can I make her mine?
Those lips pulled into a smirk as she approached me, drawing the sunglasses from her face. “Ready to go inside?”
“TURN THIS WAY!” the lone paparazzo yelled out.
Apparently it was too cold, too close to the holidays for most of them.
But Rei ignored their call, instead marching toward the security guard, who stepped out of the way and let the doorman hold the door for us.
I followed like the dumbstruck fool I was.
Inside, we were greeted by a blast of warm air from an over-the-door heater and then the less aggressive warmth of a cozy room buzzing with food, conversation, and the aromatic smell of roasting beans.
Rei gazed around, sunglasses now in a case getting tucked into her purse.
Her eyes were wide, drinking in our surroundings like the scenery could rival a lifetime’s worth of vistas.
“It’s so fancy in here,” she whispered. Then she leaned closer.
“Although I expected more gold accents for it being Golden Café.”
I huffed a surprised chuckle. She had a point. All the fixtures were black or even copper. Not a hint of gold in sight. The gold access card in my pocket was the only gold reference.
A server came and led us toward a booth, but Rei looked uncomfortable. “Can we have a table?” she asked.
“Of course,” the server said, and I was grateful. My long legs and sturdy frame meant tables were much more comfortable.
He took us to the other side of the room, away from the windows. In fact, it was the perfect place for an intimate conversation—in a corner near the speakers playing instrumental music.
I helped Rei into her chair while the server set menus on the table. Once I sat down, he rattled off his recommendations for the day and then excused himself.
“What’s good here?” Rei asked, lifting her menu for her perusal. “I’ve never been here before, but I’ve always wanted to.”
“Everything’s good but the salmon,” I answered honestly. “They overdo it with the char.”
“I hate salmon. Or any kind of fish.” She shuddered. “No thank you.”
“My nutritionist puts it on the menu once a week for the omega-3s,” I replied. “I like some more than others.”
“Your nutritionist,” she echoed with an amused smile. “Fancy.”
The teasing way she said it made my lips twitch.
“Jada said the stuffed French toast is the best,” Rei said. “I think I’ll get that with some eggs.” She set her menu down, and I did too.
“When should we talk about this?” she asked, waving her arms between us with the word “this.”
“This?” I repeated.
She blushed. “What should I call it?”
“Us?” I suggested.
She tilted her head. “Us.”
I liked the word on her lips far more than I should have. “Have you thought about what I said?”
“Well,” she continued, “I thought about us.”
My heart picked up speed. I wished I didn’t care so much about the outcome of this conversation. Then my muscles could relax, because they couldn’t tell the difference between a football opponent and the answer to a proposal from a woman I had admired for months.
She flattened her hands on the table. “If this is a business partnership, I have conditions of my own.”
I arched my eyebrows waiting for more explanation.
“I want MyHome to sign a five-year contract with the cleaning company I work for,” she said calmly, not a hint of a flinch to her words. Her confidence was as sexy as her proposition was intriguing.
Of all the demands I pictured, that wasn’t one. “Why is that?” I asked.
Her gaze flicked down to the table and then back at me. “I’d hate for a fight between us”—she gestured between us again playfully—“to cost hundreds of people a job. I’d prefer for business to stay business and us to stay...”
“More,” I asserted. God, how I wanted us to be more than a business deal.
Her cheeks darkened again, and she fought a smile. “You want more with me?” It was almost a whisper, especially compared to the music playing so close.
I practiced my one and only line if she agreed to this. “I do.”
Her throat moved with her swallow, sending my thoughts to dark places. When my gaze flicked back to her eyes, she said, “I have one more ask before I say yes.”
“What’s that?” My voice scraped over the words. I’d do just about anything right now.
“We elope next week.”
My eyebrows flew up. The schedule only called for our marriage in February. It wasn’t even January yet.
“I leave for a founders’ retreat on January second,” I replied. There was hardly time to plan and have a wedding.
“Then we marry on the first,” she said. Despite the determined sound in her voice, I noted the worry in her eyes that seemed to be about more than the expedited timeline. Why was it there? I wondered.
I waited for a time, hoping she would reveal herself.
It was a powerful tool, waiting. People always spoke more and more, uncomfortable with the silence I’d learned to make my friend.
Unfortunately, the server wasn’t in on my plan.
Just as Rei opened her mouth to speak, he approached with an icy carafe and two glasses he set on the table and filled with water.
The liquid swirled and bubbled as he filled the cups.
And then he asked, “Have we decided on our food and drink choices?”
I looked to Rei. “Have we?”
She swallowed again before giving the server her attention. “I-I’ll have a dirty chai and the French toast with scrambled eggs and bacon.”
“The same,” I said.
The server walked away, at last giving us the privacy we needed.
“January first is in six days,” I said. “Counting today.”
Rei finally said, “You told me Simon’s children would do anything to stop a wedding. I don’t want to put either of us or Simon at any more risk.”
My chest softened. “I’d do anything to keep you safe.” I meant it.
She smiled. “Even hire a big, scary gunman named Steve?”
I chuckled. “Even that.”
“Even marry me on the first?”
I hesitated for a moment, torn between disbelief, thrill, and dread. “I will. There’s just one thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I need you to meet my mom.”