End Message.
I ran my hand over my mouth, exhaling against my skin.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I whispered.
This wasn’t how I operated. My job description didn’t include sex, but I’d be damned if I could think of anything at all except the many different ways I wanted to fuck her.
When I left David’s office, I took the files I was in the middle of reviewing with me, and I turned the lights out. Waiting twenty-four hours to see her, now that I knew for sure I would actually see her again, was going to be difficult.
* * * *
I watched her enter the restaurant the next night. The maître d’ helped her out of the light grayish-brown jacket she wore. It covered an equally light peach dress. It was a slip dress made of satin or silk, and it shimmered slightly in the overhead light. She wore a long strand of pearls knotted around her neck and a long silver necklace too. She looked eclectic but nice, and the light brown ankle boots she wore highlighted her slender legs. Her hair was parted down the center, and it hung straight and long over her shoulders.
She scanned the small restaurant, and the maître d’ ushered her my way. She paused mid-stride the moment her eyes took me in. She looked around, seemingly confused, and when her focus returned to me, her brow furrowed and she shook her head. The poor maître d’ was watching her concernedly as he now stood beside our small table for two.
As she approached, he pulled her chair out for her. She paused yet again, clearly deciding whether she intended to sit or not.
“Come on, Gabe. I don’t bite.” I smiled at her.
She finally took the chair. “You do actually.”
I chuckled.
“And David is…?”
“Traveling. I was afraid you’d get lonely without him.”
She hummed. “Did you?” She cocked her head coolly to the side.
“No, not really.” I smirked. “I did, however, think we should get to know one another better.”
She scoffed as she leaned back in her chair. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Well, we have all night to decide whether it’s a good idea or not, so how about you reserve judgment for the time being.” I studied her for a moment. “Surely you thought there was a chance it might be me contacting you, and yet…you came anyway.”
She said nothing, but her eyes flitted away for a moment. Busted.
When the waiter arrived, I ordered a bottle of wine, and we both started scanning the menu. It was thoroughly confusing. Nothing much made sense on the menu, just random ingredients, most of which I couldn’t identify.
I’d chosen the restaurant on the recommendation of David’s secretary. She called it “divine art on a plate.”
Looking around, that’s exactly what I was seeing.
I pulled an audible and pointed randomly at the menu when the waiter returned, and from the looks of it, that’s exactly what Gabe did as well. I gawked once the waiter was gone. It was all a bit pretentious for my taste, but I was all about the pretense. Pretense was my life, after all.
Gabe was studying me when I finally looked back at her, but she wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t even frowning; she was just watching solemnly.
“Tell me about yourself.” I opened the conversation, expecting nothing whatsoever to be handed to me easily. But it was surprising what you could learn about a person when they were trying to keep you from learning.
“No.”
A small smile tugged at my lip. “Tell me about your sister. Jessa, isn’t it?” I knew it was Jessa because I didn’t forget names, and I didn’t forget details.
“No.”
“No, her name’s not Jessa, or no, you’re going to be a defiant brat and not answer any of my questions?”
She stared at me, saying nothing.
“You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?”
“Very.”
“I’m not at all opposed to a power struggle, Gabe. I’m not even opposed to letting you have the power if that’s what you need. Of course, you already know that.” I smiled sweetly, lifting my glass of wine to my lips. “I’m just asking for a little conversation.”
She sighed, looking away for a moment.
“Do you have a job besides this?”
“What do you think?” She smiled tauntingly at me this time. She hadn’t said it sarcastically, though, and the intrigued expression on her face said she truly was inviting me to speculate. Of course, that look was sending a flush of heat through me that was making it hard to concentrate too.
“I’m guessing no. I suppose you wouldn’t be doing this if you had another job.”
She hummed as though interested in my response.
“How about an education?
Again she responded, “What do you think?” with a smile.
“Same answer. We wouldn’t be here if you did.”
Her smile froze for a moment, and her eyes narrowed. I couldn’t tell if I’d offended her or not.
“Where do you live?”
“Does it matter? I don’t take clients home with me.”
“I’m not your client.”
“Are you sure about that?” She bit her lower lip. She was being coy. At least she wasn’t refusing to converse with me anymore.
The waiter suddenly appeared and set our plates in front of us. Mine looked…well, interesting. Gabe’s, however, was far more unsettling. Her head turned to the side as she stared.
“Enjoy,” the waiter said with a nod.
That was debatable.
I watched Gabe as her brow furrowed and her mouth scrunched up. My lips were pulling up farther with every passing second until I was grinning like an idiot. She finally looked at me, and her mouth curved into the cutest smile too. It was small at first, but it widened as we looked at each other.
She leaned forward. “I think they accidentally served me a centerpiece.”
I laughed.
“Is this edible?” she whispered as she pointed to a pretty blue flower on her plate.
I shrugged. “From what I’m told, everything is supposed to be edible.” I reached over, snatching one of the flowers, and I popped it in my mouth as she grimaced. She waited patiently for my verdict as I chewed, and her teeth were gritted, her lips parted the entire time.
“Cucumberry.”
She looked shocked. “Really?”
“Mmm-hmm. You should try it.”
She reached down, plucking one of the flowers off her plate. She looked around as though she didn’t trust what she was getting ready to do. She apparently decided other patrons were eating their own weird-ass shit, so it must be okay. Her head bobbled, and then she popped it in her mouth.
We picked at our shockingly and impressively good food for a few minutes. She’d occasionally point at something she wasn’t sure of. I’d consequently taste it for her first, and then once I’d given her my seal of approval, she’d eat it. I offered her a bite of the Kingfish I’d ordered as well, and she hummed when she tasted it.
“So you were just getting ready to tell me all about the incredible greystone you have in Lincoln Park.”
“Nice try.” She winked at me. “No greystone for me.”
“Ah…high-rise then?”
She shook her head slowly. “Sorry.” She studied me. “Why are you so interested in knowing about me?” Her face was suddenly serious.
I dropped my napkin on my plate. “Just like to know who all the players are. You’re the unknown, and I don’t like unknowns.”
“I’m not a player. I’m a nobody.”
I watched her, saying nothing and hoping she’d say more.
“I’m the normal woman you walk by without ever guessing the secret life she leads.”
When she said nothing further, I leaned in, planting my elbows on the table and steepling my fingers under my chin. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your secrets,” I whispered.
She leaned in too, copying my posture. “You
are
the secret,” she whispered back.
“Huh,” I responded. It was a completely involuntary response that had slipped out with my breath. But she’d brought me up short. I wasn’t real life for her. Real life for her was the thing that happened outside of all this.
And I was suddenly the one who was offended.
Chapter 6
Gabrielle
WHEN
he helped me from my chair, my skin popped with goosebumps. My arms were bare, and his hands were warm as they touched my skin. I needed to leave. The message indicated a restaurant only, not a hotel, and while that would never stop David from following up dinner with a hotel if he so chose, there was no reason to think this needed or should go further than dinner with Keegan. That meant it was time to leave.
So why was I hoping for more?
He helped me into my coat, which was nothing more than a taffeta swing coat, dressy and simple. He slipped his hand under it at my lower back as we walked out of the restaurant together.
“Take a walk with me.”
I glanced at him. Now was when I was supposed to refuse. Now was when I could logically say I needed to go.
But I didn’t.
His hand remained low on my back, too low for polite acquaintances. We walked down a couple blocks, crossing over Interstate 90 on Randolph. He wasn’t in a hurry, and I was grateful at least my ankle boots were comfortable. When he stopped in front of an industrial-type building that had obviously been renovated into a hotel, my body stiffened.
“There was no mention of a hotel in the message. The service usually reserves the room if that’s—”
“Relax. There’s a local group playing in the bar. If you want to get a room later, we can. But it will be your choice if we do, not mine.”
The hand on my back moved slightly lower as he watched me, and his fingers gripped me gently. I stepped away from him when the doorman opened the door for us, and he followed me inside.
The lobby was vast and open. It was very industrial chic. The woodwork was thick, authentic, and worn. The wrought-iron fixtures were, without doubt, original, and the subtle variances and unevenness in the floor were charming. The room was tall, and a bar that was open to the lobby was off to the left.
People were congregating around the many groupings of shabby-looking furniture. A deep purple velvet loveseat was vacant near the stage that was set up, and Keegan led me there, helping me out of my coat before we sat.
He rested his arm casually behind me on the couch, and when a waitress came by to take our order, he just asked for water. I was already mildly tipsy, thanks to the wine from dinner, so when he looked at me and waited for my order, I asked for the same.
“This building is amazing.” He leaned down to my ear as he spoke.
I nodded. It was incredible. It was exactly the kind of style I would love to have some day.
“Far more my taste than where I’m staying,” he commented offhandedly as he looked around.
I turned to him, almost shocked to hear that, but not at all willing to admit it fit me too. He smiled at my intrigued expression. His expression faded, though, and it turned serious as he watched me.
“I need to know you’re not going to see David again.”
I nodded slowly, but I wasn’t responding to him. “So that’s why you set up this date. To try, yet again, to convince me to do your job for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “No, actually.”
The group, a small ensemble of horns, strings, and piano, took the stage, along with a man standing at the microphone. It all had a very flapper-era look to it, and when they broke into a rendition of Sinatra’s “Strangers in the Night,” my skin prickled with a warm flush.
I angled myself toward the stage, which put Keegan’s body behind mine. His elbow remained on the back of the couch, but his fingers brushed the hair off my shoulder, and he leaned to my ear. His lips brushed my earlobe, and more goosebumps popped up along my arms.
“I asked to see you because I wanted to lick your pussy again.” His voice was quiet, his breath warm as it touched my skin, but I shivered anyway. “And I want those lips too.” He leaned back from me casually, returning his eyes to the stage, but I stared at him over my shoulder.
It became uncomfortable sitting beside him then. I was warm between my legs, wet and tingly with need. Every sound and every sensation sent a rush of blood through me in my hypersensitive state, and God forbid his skin brush mine. The few times that happened, my body would physically jolt and the breath would rush from my lungs.
I tried to listen to the music. It was beautiful, it was entertaining, it was an incredible atmosphere, and I absolutely wanted to stay longer and get a room with this man. I wanted his mouth on me. I wanted to feel his tongue gliding over my skin. I wanted him inside me, quietly grunting that deep warm sound he made when he fucked. I wanted to take exactly what he wanted to give.
But what I wanted was a fairytale, another fantasy.
The moment the band took a break and the crowd of people started conversing again, I turned to him. “I have to go.”
“Or we could go upstairs.” He studied my eyes.
“Please don’t ask me to do this tonight,” I said quietly.
He leaned in, keeping his eyes on mine as long as he could. “Why not? You enjoyed what we did together last time,” he said against my ear.
I stood, and he looked up at me calmly. I took a deep breath, steadying my resolve. “This life makes a lot more sense when I don’t.” I started to walk away, but his hand grabbed mine swiftly as he stood.
“Just give me your lips for a little while, and I won’t argue.” His eyes moved back and forth across mine.
“To do what with?”
He smiled, and then he tapped his own lower lip. “Nothing more.”
I glanced around, and the moment I nodded, his hand tightened on mine and he pulled me away toward the entrance. He helped me into my coat, which he was still holding, and the doorman held the door open for us.
He held my hand as we walked back toward the restaurant, and the closer we got, the more my fingers trembled until we were within sight of the place and I simply had to pull my hand away altogether. He approached a dark luxury-looking sedan and pulled his keys out of his pocket.
“Can I give you a ride?”
“No.”
“What? Afraid you might accidentally have sex with me?”
That’s actually exactly what I was afraid of, but I didn’t respond.