Page 22 of The House Guest
He turned to me. “Have I been flirting with you, Primrose?”
“Ifthat’sflirting, you really need to up your game, Vanderbilt. I mean, the moment you asked me to surprise you with that drink. Gosh, I thought I was going to have to change my panties.”
His date gritted her teeth. “Okay. You know what?” Her chair skidded against the floor as she got up. “I’ve had enough. Have a nice life…both of you.”
I watched her until she was out of sight, then turned to Dorian. “Sorry about that.”
“Sorry for what? I should be thankingyoufor sparing me the rest of the evening with her.”
“She was pretty, though. You could’ve at least gotten laid.”
“Pretty ugly on the inside is what she is. And it takes a lot more than a pretty face to get me interested these days. That damn dating app should come with a bitch warning.”
Someone in the distance called my name.
“I have to get back to work,” I told him. “Are you staying?”
He gestured down to his plate. “Well, I have this delicious steak to eat.”
“And a salad full of glutenous croutons.”
“Even better.” He winked.
I pointed to his empty glass. “Can I get you another drink?”
“Yes. But something other than the duck fart one, even though it was tasty. Might have a stomach upset with two of those things.”
I chuckled. “How about a glass of red? Pairs well with steak.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Be right back.”
My heart fluttered. We’d joked earlier aboutnotflirting, so why did every moment with himfeellike it had a subtext? And how could I be giddy after the disaster that had just occurred at his table? Yes, I was happy his date had left. But I feared the false hope it gave me was going to lead to major disappointment. Dorian wasn’t hanging out withme tonight by choice. It was only by default after a series of weird circumstances. He’d had more than one opportunity to ask me out after the couple of times we’d bonded. He’d chosen not to do that. From everything I could tell, he had decided to friend-zone me, so I needed to be careful about inferring anything from his behavior tonight.
As I waited for the bartender to pour Dorian’s wine, I thought about how silly my damn crush on him was. Why was I thinking this way about a man who clearly went for women who were the complete opposite of me? Not only had both of his last two dates been tall blondes, they were both stuck-up. I was a petite brunette who didn’t have a prissy bone in my body. Clearly, Dorian wasn’t interested in women like me.
I walked the wine over to Dorian and placed it carefully in front of him. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
“I feel bad deserting you when your date left, but I have to get back to work.”
“Well, because of you, I’m notlivingalone, right? I think I can handle half an hour in a restaurant.”
“Flag me down if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
But he never asked for a single thing more. My attention diverted to him from time to time, and once I caught him watching me, but I tried to tell myself not to make anything of it.
After he seemed finished, I returned to Dorian’s table. “Can I get you some dessert?”
“How about we have dessert together back at the house after your shift?”
A zap of excitement ran down my spine. “Okay.” But I once again warned myself not to read into anything.
“Up for a movie, too?” he asked.
