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I rifle through my closet, searching for the perfect outfit. I need something elegant but not too formal. Sexy, but not slutty. I settle on a little black dress, knee-length with a modest neckline. It hugs my curves in all the right places without revealing too much.
Pairing it with a string of pearls, dangly diamond earrings, and my favorite black Louboutins, I look sophisticated and polished. Just the image I want to project.
At 7:25, a sleek black sedan pulls up outside my apartment building. My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of it. Of course Brian’s sent a Bentley. The car looks like it could be in a James Bond film.
The driver steps out, and he’s impeccably dressed in a black suit and cap. He opens the back door with a bow and a charming, “Good evening, miss. Mr. Russo sends his regards.”
“Th-thank you,” I stammer, sliding into the leather interior. It smells of wealth and privilege, all dark wood and buttery soft leather. The knot in my stomach tightens. What have I gotten myself into—playing around with a billionaire?
Before I can ponder that question further, the driver closes my door and climbs back behind the wheel. The engine purrs to life, and we glide off into the night toward Chez Maurice and the man waiting for me there.
We pull up outside Chez Maurice, an upscale French restaurant I’ve only ever dreamed of eating at. My door is opened, and I emerge to find Brian already waiting outside, looking devastatingly handsome in a charcoal suit and burgundy tie.
“Tanya, you look stunning,” he says, pressing a light kiss to my cheek. A blush rises in response, and he smiles, clearly pleased with my reaction.
“Thanks,” I say, sounding weaker than I’d hoped. “You look very dashing yourself.”
“Why, thank you.” He offers his arm. “Shall we?”
I slip my arm through his, acutely aware of the strength in his muscular frame. We’re led to our table by a maître d’ who greets Brian like a regular. Clearly, he’s no stranger here.
We chat over appetizers of escargot and foie gras. He asks about my work and hobbies, listening with genuine interest. In turn, I learn he has a black belt in three different martial arts. The more I learn, the more intriguing he becomes, and the more out of my depth I feel.
“I have to ask,” I say during the main course. “Why me? I’m just a personal trainer. Hardly in the same circles as someone like you.”
“I don’t care about circles,” he replies, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. My heart flutters at his touch. “I care about connecting with someone real, someone genuine. And you, Tanya Nugent, are one of the most genuine people I’ve had the pleasure to meet.”
My cheeks flame at the compliment. “Th-thank you,” I say, stumbling over my words again. “I’m enjoying your company too.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” His thumb rubs a slow circle against my skin. “Perhaps we could continue our evening together? I have a home theater we could retire to if you’re up for it?”
His invitation and the simmering look in his eyes make my stomach flip. I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and a part of me thrills at the prospect. But the sensible part of my brain screams that this is moving too fast and in a direction I shouldn’t let it move in. I take a deep breath and gently remove my hand from his. His brow furrows, and I hurry to explain. “Brian, I’ve really enjoyed our dinner. I’ve had a good time. But I’m just not comfortable moving that quickly.”
For a moment, hurt flickers in his eyes. Then he nods. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have assumed. Perhaps we can go for a walk instead, we could get some ice cream and continue our conversation?”
Relief washes over me. He’s listening. “A walk sounds lovely.”
“Wonderful.” He summons the bill, then helps me into my coat. As we step outside into the cool night air, he slips my arm through his again. “At your pace, Tanya. No need to rush.”
I relax into his side, realizing I’m in no hurry for this evening to end.
We stroll down the quiet sidewalks, our steps echoing in the night. An owl hoots softly in the distance. The crisp air is scented with pine and earth, a refreshing change from the usual city smells.
Brian points out constellations as we walk, regaling me with the myths behind each cluster of stars. His voice is low and melodic, and I find myself mesmerized by the cadence of his speech and the warmth of his arm linked with mine.
We come to a small park, dimly lit by old-fashioned streetlights. A winding path leads through manicured shrubs and flowers. “Shall we?” Brian asks.
I nod, and we make our way along the path. The park is deserted at this late hour, and a sense of intimacy envelops us. We walk in easy silence for a time, simply enjoying each other’s company.
“I haven’t enjoyed an evening like this in a very long time,” Brian says eventually. He stops, turning to face me, his eyes glowing in the faint light. “Thank you for giving me another chance, Tanya.”
His words, and the earnestness in his tone, melt my heart. I reach up to cup his cheek. “I’m glad I did.”
Brian’s eyes darken, and he leans down, pausing just before his lips meet mine in silent question. I bridge the final distance between us.
The kiss is slow and deep, full of tender promise. My fingers curl into his hair, as a warmth blossoms inside me. I’m floating, lost in the sensation of his mouth moving against mine.
When we finally part, I’m breathless. Brian brushes a thumb over my lower lip, his gaze intense. “I don’t know what you think you know about me now, but I hope it’s enough to get you out on another date.”
