Chapter Ten
Darby
I fidgeted with my stupid little purse as we approached the restaurant, already regretting my agreement to this dinner.
Even though I’d said we’d have dinner at Tonio’s house, I hadn’t really wanted to go back yet.
Sully, bless his soul, called Tonio and they changed the venue.
Pretty sure Sully hadn’t expected this scale of restaurant when he’d suggested we meet somewhere neutral.
The valet who took Tonio’s sleek black car looked at us with that carefully blank expression reserved for people who might be celebrities or criminals.
In Nashville, the line between the two was often blurry.
Sully’s hand settled at the small of my back, a warm anchor against the rising tide of my discomfort.
I wasn’t made for places with white tablecloths and waiters who called you “madam.” What if there were multiple forks?
“Relax,” Sully murmured against my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “It’s just dinner.”
“Says the man who refused to wear a tie,” I muttered back, eyeing his open collar.
He looked good in the dark suit. Too good, really.
I’d thought I was going to have to cut a bitch as we were leaving the compound to meet up with Tonio.
He’d drawn the line at neckwear, leaving his throat bare despite Tonio’s obvious disapproval.
“Some hills are worth dying on,” he replied with a slight lift of his chin.
The ma?tre d’ recognized Tonio immediately, his posture straightening. “Mr. Miles, your private room is ready. Please, follow me.”
We were led through the main dining area, a sea of white tablecloths and crystal glasses that sparkled under soft lighting.
Eyes followed our progress. I had no doubt Tonio was used to the attention.
His impeccable suit and air of casual authority definitely drew the eye.
To say nothing of his hard, sophisticated good looks.
Sully was imposing in height and width, and the suit, though it fit perfectly, was cut to emphasize his powerful frame.
Then there was me. I sported a dark blue cocktail dress I’d bought with the card Tonio had given me.
(No, I wasn’t giving it up that easily. I liked retail therapy.) I hadn’t planned on dressing up, but Sully had convinced me it might be worth the effort.
The fabric hugged my curves in a way that had made Sully’s eyes darken when I’d emerged from the bathroom.
Unfortunately, the beautiful, beaded neckline itched like a motherfucker.
The private dining room was all polished wood paneling and amber lighting, intimate yet formal in a way.
A single table stood in the center, draped in crisp linen and set with more silverware than an army would need.
Crystal glasses caught the light, transforming it into tiny diamonds scattered across the white cloth.
Tonio held my chair as I sat, then took his seat with the easy confidence of a man accustomed to being catered to. Who needed three different forks for one fucking meal? Sully sat beside me, his thigh pressing reassuringly against mine beneath the table.
“Thank you for coming,” Tonio said, his voice measured and formal. “I’ve ordered some appetizers already. I hope you don’t mind.”
“As long as none of it’s still moving, I’m good,” I replied, earning a small twitch at the corner of his mouth that might have been amusement, then silence. “So,” I said, desperate to start a conversation and get things moving. “This is fancy.”
“It’s one of my preferred establishments,” Tonio replied. “Discreet, excellent food, and the staff knows not to disturb us.”
“Let me guess. In case someone needs to be quietly murdered between courses?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, the filter between my brain and mouth apparently malfunctioning as usual.
Sully snorted beside me before trying to cover his amusement by taking a drink of water in a glass that looked too delicate for his big hands.
Tonio merely raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never found it necessary to conduct business during a meal. It ruins the digestion.”
Took me a second, but when I replayed what he’d said in my head I couldn’t help but giggle.
The waiter arrived then, saving me from my own mouth. He was young, maybe mid-twenties, with carefully styled dark hair and a practiced smile. “Good evening, Mr. Miles.” He turned to me and Sully. “Miss. Sir. May I get you started with some drinks?”
Tonio nodded. “Bring my special bottle.”
The waiter’s eyes widened slightly. “The Chateau Margaux 2010, sir?”
“Hey there,” I said, leaning forward and reading his name tag. “Jason, is it? That sounds fancy as hell, but I’m a beer girl myself. Got anything local on tap?”
“We have the Southern Grist Double Fruited Sour, and --”
“Perfect,” I cut him off with a bright smile. “I’ll take that. And you know what? You look like you know your wines. What do you think of Tony’s choice here?”
The waiter blinked, clearly caught off guard by being addressed so casually. “The Chateau Margaux is exceptional, ma’am. One of our finest.”
“I’m sure it is. I’m also sure it’s expensive as shit. But the question is, have you tasted it?” I pressed, watching his professionalism war with honesty.
“I… well, no.” He clearly looked uncomfortable. “It’s a little more than I can afford.”
“That’s a crime,” I declared, turning to Tonio. “Don’t you think the man serving your wine should know what he’s selling? How about you bring an extra glass when you come back? Jason can have a taste with us.”
Jason’s eyes darted nervously to Tonio, who watched our exchange with inscrutable eyes. “Ma’am, I couldn’t possibly --”
“Sure you could,” I insisted. “Just a tiny sip. For educational purposes. Besides, isn’t wine tasting like a thing in fancy people circles?”
Sully coughed into his fist.
Tonio gave Sully the side-eye and muttered, “Fancy people circles?”
Sully just shrugged.
“It would be my pleasure, Jason,” Tonio said smoothly, surprising me. “When you return with the wine.”
The waiter retreated, looking equal parts terrified and intrigued. Sully’s knee nudged mine under the table, a silent question. I ignored it, instead watching Tonio with newfound interest.
“What?” he asked, catching my stare.
“Nothing. Just didn’t expect you to play along.”
His lips curved in what might have been a genuine smile. “My daughter wants to create chaos by corrupting the wait staff. Who am I to stand in her way?”
When Jason returned with our drinks and an extra glass, his hands trembled slightly as he uncorked the wine with practiced motions. I leaned forward, elbows on the table in a way I was certain violated at least three etiquette rules.
“So, Jason, you married? Got a girlfriend?” I asked, watching him nearly fumble the bottle.
“I, uh… boyfriend, actually,” he admitted, carefully pouring a small amount into Tonio’s glass for approval.
“Nice.” I nodded approvingly as Tonio swirled, sniffed, and nodded. “How long you been together?”
“Three years next month,” Jason replied, some of his stiffness melting as he poured wine for Tonio and Sully, then hesitantly for himself.
“Well, damn, that calls for a celebration.” I raised my beer. “To Jason and his boyfriend. May your anniversary be epic.”
Jason flushed but smiled genuinely for the first time since we’d arrived. Tonio raised his glass with perfect form, while Sully shook his head slightly but joined in. We all drank, and I watched with satisfaction as Jason’s eyes widened at the taste of the ridiculously expensive wine.
“Holy shit. I-I mean, excuse me. That’s incredible,” he breathed, looking at the glass like it contained liquid gold.
“Worth the hype?” I grinned at him. “Now, what’s good here that isn’t on the menu? The stuff you guys keep for yourselves in the back?”
By the time Jason left to place our orders, with promises to return with a special appetizer the chef made only for staff to test his creations, the stifling formality of the room had cracked just enough for me to breathe easier.
Tonio watched me with those dark, perceptive eyes that missed nothing.
There was a little half smile on his face like he was enjoying himself.
“Is this how you always dine out? By adopting the waitstaff?” he asked, but there was no censure in his tone, only curiosity.
I shrugged, taking another swig of my beer. “People are more interesting than silverware. Besides, Jason’s going to give us the good stuff now.”
Sully’s arm slid along the back of my chair, his fingers brushing my shoulder in what felt like approval. “Darby has a gift for getting under people’s skin,” he said, his voice warm with something that sounded dangerously like pride.
“I’ve noticed,” Tonio replied dryly, lifting his wine glass in what might have been a salute. “I suspect we’re in for an interesting evening.”
By the time our entrees arrived, I’d managed to transform our stuffy private dining room into something resembling an actual party.
Jason had become our unofficial ringleader among the staff, bringing two more waiters and even one of the line cooks into our orbit.
The sommelier, a thin woman with impeccable posture (for a while) and a hidden tattoo peeking from beneath her collar that I’d somehow managed to get her to show us, was now sitting in a chair pulled up to our table, explaining the finer points of wine regions to an increasingly amused Sully.
I’d be jealous except she was moving past tipsy and headed to intoxicated.
“And that’s why Burgundy wines have that earthy undertone,” she concluded with a small hiccup, gesturing with her half-empty glass.
Her name was Elise, and she’d warmed up considerably after I’d complimented the subtle wine bottle and roses design inked along her collarbone.
Might also have been the vodka shots I got her to do.
Until she started chasing them with the wine. Woman really liked to drink.