Chapter 11
Nia
The ride downtown felt smoother than usual, the city lights glowing beautifully against the windows while soft jazz played quietly through the speakers.
I crossed one leg over the other carefully, glancing down briefly at my reflection in the tinted glass before looking back out toward the Houston skyline.
Houston at night always did something to me because the city felt rich with energy, movement, and possibility once the sun went down.
A few minutes later, the car slowed in front of the JPMorgan Chase Tower, the massive high-rise glowing against the night sky like something pulled straight out of a movie scene.
Okay. This man was definitely showing off a little.
The driver stepped out quickly and opened my door before escorting me through the marble-covered lobby where another sharply dressed gentleman waited near the elevators.
“This way, Ms. Kingsley.”
I followed quietly, my heels clicking softly against the polished floors while my stomach fluttered unexpectedly. The private elevator climbed higher and higher until my ears popped slightly before finally stopping at the very top floor. The doors slid open slowly.
My goodness.
Candles flickered everywhere. Soft golden lighting stretched across the rooftop while slow R&B drifted through hidden speakers, the entire Houston skyline glowing beautifully behind it all.
The warm breeze moved gently through my curls while floral arrangements surrounded the space like something designed specifically to take my breath away.
And standing right in the center of it all was David.
Good God.
That man looked incredible. Maroon tailored slacks fit perfectly against his frame while a cream cable-knit short sleeve polo stretched lightly across his chest and arms, the sleeves hugging muscles that definitely did not belong on a stockbroker.
His beard was thick and neatly shaped around that dangerously handsome face while his watch probably cost more than my first apartment. Somehow, he still looked effortless.
He held another bouquet in one hand when his eyes finally landed on me fully, and the smile that spread across his face immediately warmed my chest. I slowly approached him, suddenly very aware of my heels against the concrete.
“You have the most exquisite taste in flowers,” I said while smiling down at the arrangement. They were stunning. Long-stemmed, vibrant, expensive, and heavy enough that I almost felt nervous holding them wrong.
Without saying a word, David motioned subtly toward the gentleman standing nearby who immediately stepped forward and carefully took the bouquet from my hands.
That caught my attention because he carried himself like a man used to being listened to without ever needing to raise his voice.
There was something powerful about how naturally people responded to him.
“All this for me?” I asked softly, looking around the rooftop with a teasing glint in my eyes.
David smiled slowly.
“Oh, this? It’s nothing.”
I laughed softly.
He stepped closer then, taking my hand gently before bringing it toward his mouth and kissing it slowly enough to make my stomach tighten.
“Did I mention I’ve been waiting all week to be this close to you?” he murmured while looking directly into my eyes.
Lord, have mercy.
“You look just… wow,” he said quietly, his eyes moving over me again like he genuinely couldn’t help himself.
The sincerity in his voice almost made me shy for half a second.
“You look very handsome yourself, Mr. Scott,” I replied softly.
His smile deepened slightly.
“Our dinner is being prepared right over there,” he said, motioning toward an elegantly set table near the edge of the rooftop overlooking the skyline. “But would you dance with me first?”
He extended his hand toward me, motioning toward the candlelit dance floor.
I almost laughed from disbelief because in all my life, I had never been courted to this extreme before.
Men had spoiled me before. Flown me places.
Bought me gifts. Spent ridiculous amounts of money trying to impress me.
But this felt intentional in a way I wasn’t used to.
Thoughtful. Romantic. Like something straight out of the kind of love stories women secretly wished existed in real life.
Standing there underneath candlelight while this beautiful man waited patiently for my answer, I realized I might actually be in trouble.
I placed my hand in his and allowed David to lead me toward the dance floor while soft R&B drifted through the rooftop.
His hand settled respectfully at my waist as mine rested lightly against his shoulder, and for a moment, we simply moved together slowly underneath the candlelight while the Houston skyline glowed behind us.
“You dance well,” I teased softly.
He smiled down at me.
“I had to learn eventually. My mother refused to let me embarrass her at charity events.”
I laughed immediately.
“See, now that sounds very rich.”
“It was very rich,” he admitted with a grin. “I grew up around people who cared entirely too much about posture and dinner etiquette.”
“And look at you now.”
“And look at me now,” he echoed, pulling me slightly closer.
The chemistry between us felt easy. Comfortable. Not forced or overly intense. There was confidence in him, but there was also patience, and I realized how much I appreciated that. David never made me feel rushed. He simply enjoyed being around me.
After a little while, he guided me toward the beautifully set dinner table overlooking the city.
Candles flickered softly around us while servers quietly poured wine into crystal glasses before disappearing almost instantly again.
Then another familiar face stepped out from the private kitchen setup nearby.
My eyes widened immediately.
“No way.”
David smiled proudly at my reaction. Standing there in a crisp black chef coat was Chef Marcel Laurent, one of Houston’s most exclusive celebrity chefs whose restaurant stayed booked out for months at a time.
“You mentioned one night that you’d been wanting to try his restaurant but could never get reservations,” David said casually while unfolding his napkin. “So I figured I’d bring the restaurant to you instead.”
I stared at him, completely caught off guard.
“That is… insane.”
“Hopefully in a good way.”
“In an extremely good way.”
Chef Marcel greeted us warmly before explaining each course personally.
Everything tasted incredible. The first course was a delicate lobster ravioli in a brown butter sage sauce that practically melted in my mouth.
The second was a roasted pear salad with candied pecans, goat cheese, and champagne vinaigrette that somehow tasted light and rich at the same time.
Then came the main course. Perfectly cooked filet mignon topped with garlic herb butter, alongside black truffle mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus finished with lemon zest. The steak cut so easily I barely needed the knife.
I closed my eyes after the first bite.
“Oh my God.”
David laughed softly from across the table.
“That good?”
I pointed at him dramatically while chewing.
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“Maybe a little.”
I laughed again while taking another sip of wine, and somewhere throughout the evening, I completely relaxed for the first time in weeks.
No pressure. No expectations. No stress about work or J5 or media coverage.
I was just a woman enjoying herself. And boy, it felt good.
David asked questions and actually listened to my answers.
He made me laugh constantly without trying too hard, and the more the night went on, the more I realized how naturally he paid attention to details about me.
Little things people forgot immediately.
By the time dessert arrived, the city lights looked softer from the wine and laughter. Chef Marcel prepared a warm butter cake topped with vanilla bean ice cream and a caramel drizzle that genuinely almost took me out.
“I’m at a loss for words,” I said, laughing into my wine glass.
After dinner, we danced again for a while, slower this time. Closer. The music drifting through the rooftop wrapped around us while the wind moved gently through my curls. His hand settled carefully at my waist as mine rested lightly against his shoulder.
His hand settled carefully at my waist as mine rested lightly against his shoulder, and the second we started moving together, I realized how long it had been since dancing with a man actually felt intimate instead of performative.
David moved slowly and confidently, guiding me effortlessly without making it feel forced or overly rehearsed.
The warmth from his body mixed with the soft night breeze while the scent of his cologne wrapped around me every time he pulled me slightly closer.
Damn, he smelled good.
At one point, he pulled me just a little closer, enough that my chest brushed lightly against his while his eyes stayed locked on mine.
The city lights reflected softly in them while the music slowed around us, and for a brief second, I genuinely forgot about everything else waiting for me outside this rooftop.
Just warmth, music, candlelight, and a man looking at me like I was the only woman in Houston tonight.
Eventually, David guided me toward a beautifully arranged floor palette tucked into the corner of the rooftop, surrounded by candles and oversized pillows. Soft blankets layered across the ground while another bottle of champagne chilled nearby.
“Okay, now this is beautiful,” I said, slipping my heels off.
I settled comfortably against the pillows with champagne in hand while overlooking the skyline, the city stretching endlessly beneath us, glowing gold against the night sky.
The air felt warm and refreshing against my skin, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt completely feminine.
Soft. Relaxed. Desired without feeling pressured.
David sat beside me close enough that our legs touched lightly, eventually pulling me gently against his chest while we talked underneath the stars.
And somehow, it never crossed into anything too aggressive or sexual.
He held me sweetly. Respectfully. Like he genuinely enjoyed my company more than the idea of simply sleeping with me.
That alone almost shocked me. Because most men eventually ruined moments like this by rushing. David didn’t. He brushed his fingers slowly along my arm while we talked and laughed quietly beneath the skyline until the night started fading.
I needed this more than I realized. Work had consumed me lately. Stress had consumed me lately. I had been carrying so much pressure in my body for months that I’d forgotten what it felt like to enjoy simply being cared for.
By the time the car finally dropped me back off at my townhouse, I almost hated seeing the night end. David walked me to my front door like a true gentleman, his hand resting lightly against my lower back the entire way.
“I had an amazing time tonight,” I admitted honestly once we stopped outside my door.
His eyes softened slightly.
“So did I.”
For a second, we just stood there quietly looking at each other. Then he leaned down slowly and kissed me softly. Not demanding. Just enough to leave my stomach full of butterflies all over again.
“Goodnight, Nia,” he murmured against my lips.
“Goodnight, David.”
The car finally pulled away from the curb slowly, the taillights disappearing down the street while I stood there smiling to myself underneath the soft glow of the building lights.
My body still felt warm from the champagne, the dancing, and the way David had looked at me all night, like I was something worth taking his time with.
I wrapped my arms loosely around myself while heading inside, replaying the evening in my head, still tasting traces of wine and butter cake on my tongue.
I made it up to my door, still smiling like an idiot. But as I reached into my bag for my keys, a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows at the end of the hallway.
My stomach tightened instantly.
Cal.