Page 77 of Villainous Summer

On the drive there, he grabbed my hand, our fingers entwined. When I asked to change the music, he told me to turn on whatever I wanted. He asked me questions about my favorite colors, foods, and memories. We talked of my dad again, about London, about childhood pets, and about sports I had tried and failed at.

When I told a long rambling story about the hotel, he laughed at the hijinks of when a housekeeper found a snake and how the guest had tried to hide it from us by placing it inside a nightstand. At the restaurant, he made me wait in the truck until he could get the door for me. I never had someone do that for me.

As he helped me down from his truck, he brought the back of my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

For a moment, I felt just like Beatrice with Viscount Rodolphe in my romance book.

He slipped the hostess a tip, asking for a waterfront table.

I thought that was only for the movies.

Seated across from each other, he insisted I pick the wine, letting me know I had better taste than he ever did.

Halfway through the first glass of a local Sauvignon Blanc, I envisioned future dates we could have. I was never a big dreamer—that was for Autumn and Devin. They could build worlds in their minds, create scenarios, and picture futures. Never me. I wasn’t going to sit there and let my imagination take me to such lengths as marriage and babies—but more dates like this? That, I could handle.

We ordered our food, and when it came, we realized we didn’t need to get three appetizers and two full meals.

Van took it in good spirits, offering to send all the leftover crab cakes home with me for my dad, knowing they were his favorite from an offhand remark I made.

We were halfway done with our meal when the door clanged open on the other side of the restaurant and a group walked in, then sat at the bar.

I stiffened, my lips tightening into a narrow line.

No, no, no. This could not be happening. I was having such a wonderful night.

I should’ve looked away from them. It was obvious I was blatantly staring, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man who had violated my trust and violated my wonderful date.

Tentatively, Van set his left hand on my arm.

Instinctively, I flinched away to fold my hands together.

“You okay?” he asked, following my line of sight to the group.

The three men and two women looked completely normal, but one was the devil incarnate.

Returning my gaze to Van’s, I blinked, hoping I could conceal my heightened panic.

I tapped my nails together and smoothed them over the hem of my dress, confident that my smile didn’t quite match my eyes. “Totally.”

The cool wine was suddenly too sweet on my tongue as I gulped down the rest of my glass.

“I have to, um—be right back.”

Luckily the chair didn’t shriek an embarrassing screech as I pushed off from the table and rose.

In my heels, I hobbled to the bathroom.

While I wouldn’t risk my makeup enough to splash water on my face, I could at least hyperventilate in the privacy of a stall before figuring out my next step.

Plopping down on the toilet seat, I studied my toes peeking out of my nude wedges. They were in desperate need of a pedicure. Maybe I could talk Autumn into going to the nail salon with me, even if they use nonorganic materials.

What were the chances that Cory would show up at the same bar as me and Van?

Was he going to confront me?

Did I have too much wine?

Someone walked into the bathroom, and under the stall door, I saw small feet in gold strappy sandals trot to the sink.

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