10. Adrian
CHAPTER 10
ADRIAN
It takes all my willpower not to do something stupid, like try to kiss Jane again. I blame the sadness I feel whenever I talk about my parents, and the softness of Jane’s small, reassuring hand. Not to mention her heartfelt words.
But I’m glad I have self-control. Kissing her—or doing anything else along those lines—would undo everything I’ve accomplished here today. Every time I’ve dated someone, we broke up once the woman in question got to know me—and so it would be with Jane, but a breakup in this case would be a disaster.
Not to mention, I’m being presumptuous in my fantasies. Jane probably wouldn’t even want me like that. The word “rake” wasn’t a compliment, after all. And even if she likes me now, she’d lose interest in me once she learns how unfocused I am when it comes to having a plan for my life. In contrast to me, she was laser-focused on wanting to work at that library—which means that is something she clearly values.
In any case, I’m in no headspace to date anyone until the successful end of the saga with Piper, and especially not a woman who wants a Grand Deflowering. I can’t be the guy for that. That honor belongs to someone she’ll fall in love with and who’ll love her back.
“Do you want to learn something about me?” Jane suggests, bringing me back to Earth.
“Please.” I gently free my hand. “Let’s talk about your family. So far you’ve mentioned your BFF mom and your much-younger sister.”
“Right,” she says. “I also have a grandmother, Mom’s mom, who lives in Florida. My dad isn’t in the picture at all, so I can’t really tell you anything about him or that side of the family.”
“I see.” Should I add that I think her father is a moron?
“On the bright side, less lying,” she says. “Mary, my sister, will believe we’ve been secretly dating, and so will Grandma. You can make my mom sign an NDA. She’s terrified of lawyers and therefore will keep her mouth shut.” She frowns. “I’m amazed you didn’t make me sign one before you told me the whole plan.”
“You seem trustworthy,” I say with a wink. “Besides, I didn’t think you would sign anything without an explanation. It was a miracle you didn’t bolt when you saw the empty restaurant.”
She grins. “It’s not like anyone would believe me if I told them you wanted to marry me.”
I sigh. “You keep not giving yourself enough credit.”
She waves her ring finger. “I guess people will believe me once you tell everyone we’re engaged . ”
“Okay, you win,” I say. “Our secret contract will have a non-disclosure section.”
“Thanks,” she says sarcastically. “You should also threaten me with your fancy lawyers.”
“To say my lawyers are sharks is to make them sound cuter and cuddlier than they actually are,” I say with a straight face. “And don’t get me started on Bob. He literally looks like a honey badger.”
“Wonderful. Next, you’ll tell me you can afford an assassin too.”
“Why bother with that when my lawyers can make you wish for an assassin?”
She chuckles, but nervously, so I say, “I’ll give you a million before any contracts are signed. That way, you can get your own shark lawyer to review everything.”
She rolls her eyes. “You always go for the costliest solution, don’t you?”
“No,” I say. “I could’ve bought a private island for today’s meal and had you flown there on a private jet that I’d also bought for the occasion. I did none of that.”
“Oh, the restraint that must’ve taken,” she says, hand clutching non-existent pearls.
Just as I open my mouth to make a retort, there’s a thud on the restaurant doors, and when they open, Leo runs inside, his leash dangling behind him.
What the fuck?
Spotting me, Leo runs over and tries to get me to pet him—from under our table.
I’m so happy to see you. No, ecstatic. No, ardent. My tail actually hurts from all this wagging.
Shit.
The small table topsides, board crashing to the floor and sushi flying everywhere.
Jane leaps to her feet, no doubt worried she’s going to be tackled again.
She didn’t need to worry, however. When Leo spots the sushi, he forgets all about her and me and starts to feast as though he’s been starving for a month.
“How did you get here?” I demand.
Leo looks up from his all-consuming task and tries to look innocent—a tricky proposition when your face is covered in rice and fish that you’ve just knocked over.
I was just passing by. Smelled you. Figured I’d say hi.
“Did you forget to feed him?” Jane asks.
“Of course, I fed him,” I say. “So did his dog sitter, I’m sure.”
In that moment, Itamae-san runs out of the kitchen, and the fury on his face reminds me of the menpō masks that the samurai wore to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies.
Upon seeing that expression, Leo stops eating, whines, and hides behind me.
I didn’t do nothing. I was framed by a cat—hence all the fish.
“I’ve told you many times—you cannot bring a dog to my restaurant,” Itamae-san shouts in Japanese. “I don’t care how rich you are!”
“I didn’t bring him,” I say. “He?—”
“Shut up!” Itamae-san yells. “Take your beast and get out!”