Page 90 of Keeping the Score

“Thank you.” I move to the full-length mirror to check my appearance, turning in front of it.

“Yes, your ass looks spectacular.” He walks up behind me, cups my butt, and lays a kiss on my shoulder. “The night we went to that awards dinner and you were wearing that red dress… I thought you were the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”

My lips curve up.

“Until now,” he says, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “You’re so beautiful.”

My heart expands. “Thank you.”

He drops another kiss on my bare shoulder. “Are we ready to go?”

“I am. I just need my shoes.” My sexy slingbacks with the sharpest pointed toe.

Outside on the sidewalk, he says, “This way.” He takes my hand and leads the way to Sixth Avenue and around the corner. It’s a couple of blocks to the restaurant through busy Friday-night sidewalks, the city glittering and glamorous around us.

Pascal is a French bistro, a small place, with supposedly incredible food. We’re seated at a table for two, me taking the seat on the red velvet banquette. I look around in the low golden lighting, surveying the brass fixtures, white tablecloths, and lots of ornate mirrors on the wall.

“Very French,” I murmur, settling into my seat. I look at Ford to see him staring at me I intently. “What?” I smile.

“Just admiring you. You’re gorgeous. And…” He leans forward. “You look freshly fucked.”

I drop my gaze, heat sliding into my cheeks. “I wonder why.”

He chuckles.

“You know what was really hot?”

One eyebrow goes skyward.

“We could be as noisy as we wanted.”

His lips kick up in a smile. “That is very true.” He leans closer. “I can’t wait to make you scream later.”

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and resist the urge to fan myself with the menu. “This place is so elegant.” I pick up a thick folder which contains the wine list. “We could be sitting in Paris.”

“You fit right in.”

“Aw. Thank you.”

“I’d like to go to Paris.”

“Me, too. Holy crap, there are three pages of champagnes!” I look up at Ford. “I don’t even know where to start with this.”

“We’ll get advice.”

We start with foie gras. Ford requests the filet mignon au poivre, and I order braised beef in red wine. He also orders a Ladoix premier cru burgundy recommended by the sommelier. I almost choke at the price. “You are going all out tonight.”

Ford laughs. “Yeah. I calculated how much I would have spent if we’d been dating for the last three months and decided to spend it all tonight.”

My mouth drops open. “Really?”

“No.”

We both laugh.

“But I like that idea,” he adds.

Before our food arrives, Ford takes out his phone, then hesitates.

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