TEN
Lisa
She was not on a date.
So, why was the guy sitting opposite her in Luciano’s restaurant acting like they were on a sixth date?
Lisa knew right away, when she saw his eyes sparkle, that meeting Keir at Luciano’s restaurant was a poor decision.
“That’s very fattening, you know? It’s made with heavy cream. Are you sure you want to order it?” Keir dared to comment after Lisa ordered the tagliatelle.
Lisa dropped the menu book and stared aghast. The server looked equally embarrassed.
Lisa almost swore at him but was diplomatic and remained silent. She had dealt with difficult clients before, but those instances were usually work-related. This was personal.
“Yes, it’s fine.”
“Ah, okay.” He nodded with a smile. “You must keep in shape to eat such calorie-laden food.”
Whoa. Who the hell was this guy? Was he raised in a swamp, devoid of basic common sense?
Lisa received an email from Keir, a Utah-based horror author, requesting her services to translate his five-book series into multiple languages for audiobook production. She had suggested meeting locally; she didn’t anticipate he would select a romantic restaurant.
She was ill at ease in his presence, questioning her decision to collaborate with him due to his inappropriate comments since their meeting began.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you’re slimmer than I imagined someone in your line of work.” Before Lisa could drink, he tittered, thinking he had complimented her.
“I imagine you don’t earn a lot translating.” It was another of his stellar lines.
If she’d been feeling petty enough, she would have whipped out her banking app to show how well her work paid.
What a prick. She was two breaths away from swilling no-filter Keir with water.
“I’ve sold twenty thousand copies of my e-books already; they’re huge in Japan, and I want to have them translated ASAP for a European audience. Would that be too much work for you?”
With a smarmy grin, he shifted her glass, took her cutlery, and began buffing them with his napkin. He returned them to their position, angled to match his silverware. He repeated the action with her water glass, aligning it with his wine glass. It seemed like prick Keir had a bit of OCD.
Because he’d irked her, she knocked the dessert spoon off kilter and watched his lips tighten as he reached over and fixed it.
“I don’t suppose you read horror thrillers. Chick-lit fluff is what all the girlies read, isn’t it? If you do a good job on this set, I have author colleagues I can recommend to you.”
Lisa’s ears started burning with a quiet rage.
She placed her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. Lisa, ready to dismiss Keir’s commission, spotted a large, imposing figure heading towards her, with every set of eyes watching him, too.
No words would come out of her gaping mouth as Ryan reached the table, his eyes like twin flames, but he wasn’t looking at her. Dressed in black pants and a pale blue shirt, the man who didn’t look like a biker at all rounded her table and leaned his imposing frame over Keir from behind.
Keir spluttered and tried to turn around, but Ryan... no, this was all Splice, who palmed the back of Keir’s neck.
“I’ve been listening to the way you’ve been talking to her, douche-fuck, and your manners need a lot of fucking work. You’re lucky we’re in public, or I’d put your head through the fucking table. Never contact Lisa again.”
Lisa, as speechless as Keir, with his mouth hanging open and eyes wide with terror, accurately understanding the source of the threat, observed Ryan standing to his full, imposing height before turning his gaze upon her.
He came around the table to her and took a gentle hold of her forearm. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Like she was attached to springs, Lisa rose automatically and let herself be led away from Keir. She followed him like a disciple. He took her to an occupied table in the VIP section.
Oh darn, he was on a date?
She had no idea he was there when the hostage led her to her table. A smiling woman holding a glass of white wine watched on.
“Sit down, Lisa,” Splice gruffed, pulling out the third chair. She blustered, turning red, darting her eyes at his date.
“No, eh, I should go. I was leaving anyway, before you turned up.”
“Sit,” he insisted with a rough tone, and her butt hit the chair.
The pretty woman chuckled and looked at Ryan as he folded into the seat next to her.
“What kind of date was that?” he growled low, staring her way.
“We heard how he spoke to you,” the woman said. Then added. “What an asshole. Ryan shot out of his chair before I had the chance. I would have told that rude man exactly what I thought about him telling a woman what she could eat.”
“It wasn’t a date.” She pulled a face at the thought. “I was meeting a potential client.”
“Oh,” the other woman said. “What line of work are you in?”
“Lisa is a language translator,” Ryan said before she could. His stern scowl remained etched on his face, his gaze fixed past her, and Lisa turned slightly to glimpse Keir’s hasty departure.
“Do you know each other?” the good-looking woman asked, and Lisa felt a swirl of embarrassment settle in her ribs.
“I thought Ryan was just stepping in to help a stranger when he was spitting about snapping that guy’s neck.
” She seemed to find it funny and touched Ryan’s arm in a way that felt personal.
“Yes,” Splice said, still pinning Lisa in place with his stare.
“Not really.” She answered at the same time and felt her face flush when he narrowed his eyes. She was trying to save any unease for his date’s sake, not because she wanted to deny knowing him.
“Mom, Lisa and I used to date.” He rumbled.
Mom.
Every inch of Lisa’s cells went tight as a drum with awkwardness.
It was his mother. Why was that worse?
Lisa inwardly groaned, sat up straighter, and grew hotter as the other woman, his mom, looked at her with wide eyes. Then she laughed. “Oh, I can see that; you’re so pretty. I’m Tammie.”
Lisa took the hand that was offered. “I’m Lisa.” Then glanced briefly about Ryan, still scowling. What was his problem? He’d interrupted her dinner, not the other way around.
Just as she was about to stand up and leave, Ryan grabbed her arm. “Don’t think about it; you’re eating with us.” He said, boring into her with an I-dare-you-to-move stare. “It’s Mom’s birthday; there will be cake.”
“Oh, no, don’t let me interrupt your birthday.”
“Girl, please, the more the merrier. And it looked like you didn’t even get to order over there. You must be hungry.” Tammie said, all smiles.
“You’re staying,” Ryan said with some force and beckoned over her head. A well-dressed server arrived. Lisa ordered pasta, wondering why she was staying, but an inner urge kept her seated.
Ryan poured her a glass of wine, and she smiled thanks at him, lifting the glass. “Happy Birthday, Tammie.”
“Thank you, honey. I feel all forty-nine of my years.”
She couldn’t stop the little slip of a groan as she lowered her head into her glass. She was only seven years younger than Ryan’s mother.
She heard a deep, rumbling male laugh and glanced up at him.
“What?” his mom asked. “What am I missing?”
“Lisa realizes you guys are only seven years apart in age.”
If she could have pelted him over the head with the bread basket, she would have, but bread was her one weakness, so she just glared at him. The monster laughed again, enhancing the crinkles around his youthful face.
Tammie exclaimed. “You only look thirty! I need your skincare routine before we leave, okay?”
That’s all she had to say about an older woman who once dated her son?
Okay, then. Relieved, Lisa smiled. “Happy to share, I don’t gatekeep wrinkle-free skin.”
“Amen.” They clinked glasses, and Lisa saw Ryan smirking.
And then the dreaded question came from Tammie, which no woman wanted to be asked by a relative.
“So, how did you meet Ryan? When did you break up? Forgive my nosiness, Lisa, but this is exciting for me. You’re the first girlfriend of Ryan’s I’ve ever met. If not hearing about his antics from others, I would assume he wanted to become a monk.”
Lisa choked on wine and covered her mouth. Ryan as a monk would be world-shattering news.
His prowl alone said he was a man all about his sexual appetite.
She’d once known intimately how hungry he could get. And it had nothing to do with good-smelling bread.
“Ah, well...” she started and darted a gaze to the man, imploring him silently to step in and change the subject.
“It was a few years ago, Mom.” Bless him, she thought. But her smile fell when he added, “I got dumped.” That rotten jerk.
“Oh!” exclaimed Tammy. “Good for you, honey. I’m sure he gave you lots of trouble.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He smirked, drinking from a bottle of beer, leaving his lips wet. He licked them while looking directly at Lisa.
“You forget I know you. If Lisa dumped you, she had a good reason. You can’t get by on your pretty face for long, you know.”
Mother and son bantered back and forth for a minute, and Lisa regained her composure. She was glad Tammie wasn’t asking why she ended things with Ryan. It wasn’t something she could share.
Dinner went surprisingly smoothly. The conversation with Tammie was easy, and she learned that she also went to Nina’s salon regularly.
Lisa left for the bathroom during coffee and cake. After she was done, she went to the hostess desk to pay, but just as she was giving them her card, someone grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t think about it, sweetheart,” Ryan said huskily. He gave them his card, and the hostess glanced worriedly at both of them before swiping it.
“I wanted to thank your mom for letting me gatecrash her birthday dinner.”
“I invited you. You don’t pay.”
“Okay. Thank you, Splice.”
His head snapped down, and he stared at her hotly, and Lisa felt the earth shift under her heels. Oh wow, his effect was still very much there.
“You call me Ryan.”
Okay, then. Wordlessly, she nodded and pulled her purse over her shoulder.
“I should get going after I tell your mom goodnight.”
A phone appeared in front of her, and she blinked at Ryan. “Put your number in.”
She blinked again. “What for?”
He half-smirked. “Your number, Lisa.”
She just went along with it, put her info in his phone, then gave it back and watched him shove it into his back pocket.
Pretty soon, Lisa came into the house, took off her heels, and put on her fuzzy slippers.
As she got ready for bed, she thought about the night, still wondering why she’d agreed to have dinner with them. But his mom was lovely, and it didn’t hurt looking at Ryan again.
Ryan: Did you get home safely?
Her heart clattered with a rush of nerves as she looked at the phone screen while she dotted night cream on her face. It took her a minute to decide whether to reply at all.
Lisa: Yes. Thank you for dinner. Goodnight.
It was to the point and didn’t invite a conversation. But not even thirty seconds later, a new message came through.
Ryan: Talk soon
Talk soon?
What did that even mean?
Was he intending to text her again? To see her again?
Impossible.
Since she’d hidden an enormous lie from him for so long and worried it might be revealed, she knew it wasn’t a good idea to get back into his life, even if she wanted to.
She stared at her screen, reading his two messages, then deleted them.