Page 89 of The CEO Alpha’s Substitute Mate

He gives me a dry look. “I’m well aware of that. You and I are going to dinner. Two adults. We don’t have to take Luca with us everywhere.”

“I mean I guess we don’t,” I mutter, sinking deeper into my seat. “This just feels a lot like a date, and that’s weird.”

“Going on a date with me is weird to you?”

Is it just me, or does Callum sound a little bit offended?

“I mean not weird, you know.” I gesture with my hands as if that will explain my exact meaning. “Just, you and I don’t exactly spend time together.”

“We sleep together,” he points out calmly.

“I—” The protest gets stuck in my throat, and I finish, “You don’t have to say it like that. I mean outside of that.”

“We are having dinner outside of that.” Callum glances at me.

I tuck my tongue in my cheek. He makes very valid points. All I seem to be doing is going around in circles. Clutching my seatbelt, I look outside the window so he doesn’t see the blush crawling up my face. “So, uh, where are we going?”

He doesn’t answer, and when I sneak a look at him, his lips are curved. I immediately squeeze my eyes shut. The man is handsome enough as it is. When he smiles, he becomes devastatingly charming. This is so unfair.

The restaurant is on the top floor of a tower on the river, and the elevator opens straight into the dining room. One whole wall is glass, with the city laid out behind it in orange and black. A chandelier hangs over the middle of the floor and puts light back onto the window. Every table has white linen down to the marble, a bowl of orchids, and enough space around it to be private.

I’ve dined in fancy restaurants before, at the peak of my career, but never a place like this.

A man takes Callum’s coat as soon as we enter, and the maître d’ approaches us. “Mr. Vance. I have your usual table ready.”

“Your usual table?” I question under my breath as we are guided toward a large window.

“This is one of the few restaurants I own.” Callum sits down opposite me.

“I didn’t know Vance Group invested in—”

He cuts me off by raising a finger. “Not the Group. Me. I have a number of restaurants I have purchased over the years.”

I stare at him, stunned. “Why?”

He shrugs, accepting the wine menu from the server. “I like their food, I see potential, so I purchase it.”

I wet my lips. “That’s such a rich person thing to say. One day I aspire to walk into a place and just buy it outright.”

“It’s important to have dreams,” he says lightly, and I shoot him a nasty look.

The whole menu is in French, and while I speak a bit of the language, I let Callum order for us. As the wine is served, he asks, “How is the studio going?”

“Zara has lost her mind.” I roll my eyes. “She has spreadsheets, plural, one of which has a tab called Contingency. I thought we were going to look at a few buildings. She’s built a five-year projection.”

“What about the buildings?”

“We’ve seen a few. They’re all well located, and the rent is fantastic.” I smile into my wine. “I still can’t believe I’m actually doing this. My own studio. Zara is a whiz at marketing. She and I plan to go into this together. Business partners to the end.”

Callum tilts his head. “I rarely see you so excited.”

I pat my cheeks. “I’ve always wanted my own studio, my own space. I never thought it was possible, and now it’s happening. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s real.”

The food arrives before Callum can respond. I look down at my plate. “Is this duck? What kind of—?”

I don’t get to finish my question because a familiar voice sounds from behind me. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Reyes.”

I look up, and my eyes fall on three people. I know the one in the middle.