Page 34 of Hearts Held
Tilly begins fawning over how much she loves the Parisian-style restaurant and its classy interior. I sit back, entertaining myself with the fact that I haven’t gone to any restaurants around the city except when the girls dragged me to them. And I usually refused, either working a shift for one of my jobs or giving an excuse to stay home and save money, instead of enjoying the small outings.
As we pull up to the restaurant I study the driver, who gets out to open our car door. “Ladies,” he states. “Enjoy lunch. Sir, I’ll be back to accompany you to the game.”
Everett smooths his tweed jacket along his torso with his strong hands, stopping near his belt buckle. I eye a few rings adorning his long fingers. His essence exudes confidence. “Thank you, Mr. Baker.”
Then his eyes meet mine, catchingmy stare.
“I’m told it’s rude to stare,” he states only for us to hear. As I turn to walk into the restaurant after an excited Tilly, I feel movement near the side of my head. His broody voice rumbles a soft whisper into my ear. “But I don’t mind ifyoustare. In fact, if you tell me what you’re interested in, I’ll let you stare all day.”
I can feel my cheeks heat from his flirtatious banter as I try to stare at the wood paneling of the restaurant’s gaudy front doors. I try to maintain my composure, though my embarrassment is seeping from my pores. I hear him give a faint chuckle as he passes me into the building. Looking around to calm my demeanor, I notice men down the sidewalk, sitting on a bench or standing watch. Everett’s men, much like the night he saved me from my ghastly flat. It gives me a small sense of security that he always has individuals watching, waiting and ready to give their lives for this intimidating soul.
As I walk into the restaurant, the smell of luscious croissants surrounds my senses. I spy classic renaissance paintings and beautiful tapestries between the pillared marble. Ivy hangs from the vaulted ceilings and outlines small ridges and corners among the restaurant.
Comfortable booths are strategically placed around the outside of the room and across the marbled floor to create a more intimate setting, where quiet conversation can be held.
We embark to the back of the restaurant and take a seat in a private room, much cozier and more confined.
Several people come to greet Everett, paying respects to him as if he were the mayor of town. Granted, from what I’ve gathered, his family created this town and provides more than just a gangster mentality: they provide support and funding to businesses and ensure a fair economy.
As we review the menu, Tilly strikes up conversation, discussing all the foods listed that she adores, feverishly pointing at each item and continuing to describe the dishes. As she gets lost in her own discussion of food and wine, I peer up from the menu to find Everett staring at me. He shows no emotion, again analyzing me, assessing me.
It feels like he hasn’t blinked, for goodness sake.
The heat begins to emerge from my cheeks again as I’m enraptured by his haunting amber eyes.
Iwish I knew what he was thinking. Is he judging me? Is he taking pity on me? Does he know more about me than I realize? And he is playing me for a fool?
“Goodness.” A voice comes from the entrance of the room as Bobby steps through. “I thought I saw Everett but was very surprised to see he was with two beautiful women!”
Bobby climbs into the booth next to Tilly and outstretches a hand. “Name’s Robert—or Bobby—Afton. I prefer Bobby. What’s your name, gorgeous?”
Tilly looks at him in adoration and places her hand within Bobby’s, then he gently kisses her knuckles. “Oh!” Tilly is gleeful, a wide smile spreading across her red lips. “My name is Tilly. I work with Brielle at the hospital,” she explains.
“Oh? We got another angel on our hands?” Bobby flatters her as she takes the hand he kissed and giggles into it.
“Stop, you! I am no angel!” she exclaims.
“Oh, with those golden curls and that bright smile, I’d say angels are indeed on earth,” he flirtatiously states.
Everett’s stoic face turns to irritation. “You both are more than welcome to get your own table, or a room,”he mutters under his breath, though they ignore him and continue their flirtatious banter with one another. We seem to melt into the background as I watch Tilly and Bobby bloom in one another’s company.
Their interaction fascinates me. It’s rare to see such an adorable example of young love. Then again, maybe I’m jumping to conclusions—though they instantly connected with one another as soon as they saw each other. I wish I knew what that felt like.
For someone to be completely enraptured by me.
Feeling Everett’s gaze, I turn my head in his direction. His eyes are intense. I can’t tell if he is angry, but it seems like his furrowed brow, stark cheekbones and eyes bore into my soul.
I lean back in the booth and go to place my hand on the seat, though I do not find the seat.
An instant electricity passes between my hand and the one I touch. My hand rests atop Everett’s on the booth. A moment passes between us. The tip of my finger grazes two rings, one that features his family crest and the other a detailed snake encircling his finger.
His hand turns and grasps mine, stealing my breath for a second.
“All right, what are we eating?” Bobby asks, breaking the tension between Everett and I, as we break the connection between our hands. We each slide our hands back into our respective laps as we all converse about our menu decisions. Once Bobby orders nearly every appetizer and pastry on the menu, he proceeds to ask Everett, “Who’s getting inducted tonight?”
Everett takes a sip of his water and answers, “Dougie. After the game.”
“Oh yes! I forgot about the game! I’m gonna kick yer arse, brotha!”
