Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
AUGUST
She was late. I couldn’t decide if I was amused or annoyed that I’d compromised on the time for this lunch date, and now Sienna wasn’t even here. I settled on amused and relaxed in my chair as I slowly drank my beer.
There were a few people in this restaurant, but the lunch rush had died down for the most part. A guy at the table two along from mine had looked up at me as I’d sat down, his eyes lighting up, and I’d nodded with a small smile.
It was a different kind of fame to what Sienna dealt with. Sure, at games the fans were more intense, but Sienna lived her life with a body guard and that was a level of mainstream fame I’d never experienced.
A light scraping sound reached me and I set my drink down as Sienna dropped into the chair opposite me. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes had a glassy sheen to them that was alarming—I liked to think I was good with people, but crying women? Not so much.
I cleared my throat, fingers playing with the edge of the white napkin on the marble tabletop. “Are you okay?”
“What?” She blinked and then laughed breathlessly. “Oh, yes, I’m fine. I shut my hand in the door on my way in, stings like a bitch.”
I coughed to hide my laugh at the scandalized look on the waitress’ face as she appeared at our table to take Sienna’s drink order and overheard her cursing. “Let me see.”
She held out her hand and I took her smaller palm in my hand, inspecting the perfectly manicured nails closely, the deep purple gloss unmarred other than on one digit. I raised her hand to my mouth and met her eyes over the top as my lips brushed against her warm skin.
The waitress returned, setting down a lemonade before retreating quickly, like she was worried Sienna might cuss again.
“I’m sorry I was a little late.” Her nose wrinkled as she winced. “Muffin was having a moment.”
Her cat? “I’m not sure I believe you,” I teased. “Muffin was nothing but a good girl when I was at your place.”
Sienna bit her lip, flushed cheeks deepening. “She has an attitude, trust me.”
I laughed. “Apology accepted. So you were at home before you came here then?”
She nodded, errantly playing with a strand of her blonde hair and I recalled the softness of those tendrils in my own hands. “Yeah, quiet day today.”
“Have you always lived in New York?”
The menu rustled as she flicked through the pages, a wry grin pulling at her mouth. “Yes and no. I traveled a lot as a kid with my dad’s band, but New York is one of the places we spent the most time.”
“My parents still live in the same house I grew up in,” I admitted and her eyes turned wistful, crinkling at their corners.
“That sounds nice. My dad was never that sentimental.”
“Your mom?”
She shrugged. “Not in the picture. All I know is that she was a groupie.”
We fell quiet as we scanned the menu and I set mine down after settling on a club sandwich with fries. “So,” I said and she glanced up with raised eyebrows.
“So,” she mused. “Are you going to kiss me at the end of our date?”
“Maybe you’ll have to wait until the end to find out.
” If this was a date with anyone else, then yes I probably would have.
But with Sienna… It might muddy the waters even further where she was concerned.
Especially considering I was having a hard enough time as it was getting the memory of our previous kisses out of my head.
“I don’t know if I can handle the suspense,” she said, deadpan, and I laughed.
The air between us was light, quiet moments feeling natural rather than awkward, it was strange.
Something about her easy chatter was soothing, her humour matching mine.
It wasn’t often that I found people I clicked with so quickly.
Much like everything else to do with Sienna Slade, our connection was surprising.
The sound of a camera shutter made her tense, shoulders stiffening, her relaxed mask becoming more brittle. It had come from behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see the person behind the bar lowering their phone with wide eyes at having been caught.
I slid my drink away from the edge of the table and Sienna stared with eyes almost as large as the bartender’s as I stood and approached the startled young guy.
Was this what she’d been dealing with her whole life?
Couldn’t even get a lemonade and some lunch without it making headlines?
Yes, we were doing this for the PR but those were pre-arranged paparazzi tips for the most part — not being harassed in a restaurant.
The bar was the same monochrome, fresh marble as the tables and I leaned against it, hand splayed against the cool material to keep me grounded. “Give me your phone, please.” The words were clipped but my tone was smooth, the last thing we needed was to make my reaction a ‘drama’.
His pale hand shook as he dropped the unlocked phone in my hand. I clicked straight onto his photo album and bit back a curse as I saw the rows of photos he’d snapped of Sienna at the entrance, catching her hand in the door.
“I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, freckles looking angry against his sudden pallor. “I must have knocked the ringer. I didn’t mean to have it on loud.”
He thought I was pissed because his camera had made a noise and not because of the masses of photos he’d taken of Sienna, presumably ones he intended to sell to the press.
I mass deleted the pictures and held the phone out for him to take, holding on a second longer than was necessary so that he’d look up into my eyes. “Cancel our order and comp our drinks. Don’t let this happen again.”
“Y-yes. Sorry.”
I shook my head. It was Sienna he needed to apologize to, but there was no way I was encouraging this slimy bastard to get anywhere near her.
People in New York were usually a lot more relaxed about seeing celebrities in public, everyone just trying to get on with their day or too busy hurrying to their next appointment to worry about who sat next to them on the subway.
I couldn’t work out if it was Sienna’s profile or the intrigue that our ‘dating’ had created that explained why people like the bartender were being so… uncool.
Sienna watched me walk back to our table, frowning when I rounded it to her side instead of claiming my seat.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Oh, it’s fine, really. I don’t mind—”
I stayed silent, letting her ramble, and when her words died out I raised an eyebrow. “Are you done?”
She huffed but didn’t protest as I touched my hand to the small of her back and guided her out of the restaurant with one more warning look at the bartender, who avoided my gaze.
A few photographers lingered outside and I did my best to shield her from view, tucking her into my chest and leading her over to a familiar black car with Cade waiting in the driver’s seat. We’d known they’d be there, but in the interest of authenticity we’d opted not to play up to the cameras.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “We didn’t have to leave, it’s just a few photos.”
“You were uncomfortable. There are other places to eat, you know.”
She swallowed, searching my eyes for something before nodding and climbing in the car while I held open the door. I followed and once we were safely inside, Cade pulled away into traffic.
“Where’s the closest drivethru?”
Sienna giggled. “You can’t be serious.”
“Sure I am. I think there’s one close by here actually.”
“I don’t think I’ve had a drivethru since I was a kid.”
“Well, welcome to the fine life,” I teased. “I’ll even pay.” Greasy takeaway food probably wasn’t on the approved list from my nutritionist but, when you broke it down, burgers were protein and lettuce and tomato were part of my five-a-day. And fries are potatoes, I thought, smug.
Her laugh made my smile widen and though the traffic made the drive slow going, soon the car smelled like warm food and fries and we were munching happily as we headed back in the direction of Sienna’s apartment.
“Are all your dates like this?” She reached into the bag we were sharing and frowned when she found it empty. I offered her my carton and her smile was sweet when she pulled a fry free.
“Cheap, you mean?” I snorted. “No. But I have to say, this is one of my favorite non-date dates I’ve ever had.”
“Me too.”
We smiled and a swooping in my gut surprised me when we pulled up to the curb. The drive had passed so quickly, but neither of us moved to get out of the car.
Sienna pulled on her shake and I watched her mouth close around the plastic straw a little too closely.
Enough.
This was supposed to be business. Friendly business, but business nonetheless. It was time for me to go.
“Thanks for a great first date,” I said lightly and she smiled as she swallowed. “Speak soon?”
“You’re leaving?”
“Contrary to our prior experience, I don’t usually go inside on the first date.” I laughed when she blushed. “I have some work stuff to do before the end of the day. But let me know when you want to do this again?” It was a lie, all I had waiting for me was bad TV and my right hand.
“Sounds good,” she said. I couldn’t help but notice the words were a little breathless, maybe thanks to my mention of our almost-sleepover. “And August?” she called as I opened the door to walk to the subway. “Thank you.”