Page 15 of Ella's Masquerade
“Hello, darling,” I said as I walked around the hood of my car. “Ready for your big night?”
Shock briefly widened her pupils, followed by a hint of intrigue as she took in the cut of my all-black suit. Her tongue slipped out to lick her lips, the little tell flooring me almost as much as her immediate recovery—when she narrowed her blue eyes into slits. “You consider Homecoming a big night?”
“I consider our first date a big night, yes.” I opened the passenger-side door. “In you go, Isabella.”
“Interview tip number one,” she drawled, stepping forward in her beat-up boots. “I prefer Ella.”
“Date tip number one”—I snagged her hip and pulled her to me so I could press my lips to her ear—“I’m calling you Isabella.” I released her in the direction of the seat and smirked as she practically fell into the car. It wasn’t my words so much as it was the baggy flare of her jeans. “Should have worn something a little more practical, beautiful.”
She tucked her legs into the car and glared up at me. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Sure.” I shut her door, then picked up the bag she’d forgotten on the driveway to toss into my trunk. She’d already buckled herself in by the time I settled in beside her, not even bothering to thank me for retrieving her discarded belongings. “Your manners are exemplary,” I told her as I started the car.
“Why, thank you,” she replied, her tone sickly sweet. “I sharpened them just for you.”
I snorted. “I actually believe that.” She’d been prickly toward me all week, her interview sheet summing up her feelings toward me rather nicely.
What’s your biggest failure?
Would you rather swim in a shark-infested pool or play in a snake pit?
Do you admire anyone more than yourself?
What’s your least favorite kind of music?
Every question held a negative connotation, proving I had quite the fight on my hands here. Such a new experience from my usual. In the Midnight Fae Kingdom, all I had to do was glance at a female and she’d fall to her knees in happy oblivion.
But not with Isabella.
Oh, no. This girl was going to make me work for it. And I couldn’t fucking wait.
We drove in silence to the restaurant I’d picked for our assignment. Isabella’s attire was going to draw a lot of attention, something I suspected to be her goal. She probably expected her wardrobe to turn me off. Hence her resounding silence now. Actually, she seemed a little nervous, what with the way she kept picking at her nails.
I pulled up to the valet and fought a grin when Isabella stiffened beside me. “La Scala?” she asked, her voice a little breathy.
“Yep.” I didn’t give her a chance to say anything else as I exited the car and tossed my keys to the valet. She still hadn’t moved when I opened her door, her seat belt firmly in place. “Ready?” I asked, holding out my hand for hers.
She glanced up at me, her cheeks a delicious shade of pink. “I… I’m not dressed forLa Scala, Tray.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You mean that’s not your version of formal attire?”
She didn’t smile or laugh or even glare. She just shook her head and focused on the windshield. “This was a mistake.”
My brow furrowed.Where’s my feisty little female?I wondered, crouching before her. “Isabella,” I said softly, trying to grab her attention.
“Sir, I need—”
I shut the valet up with a wave of my hand. Literally. Dark magic pooled around him, knocking him into a daze of confusion that left him staring off into space. I’d deal with him in a moment.
“Ella,” I tried again, this time using her preferred name. “It’s just dinner.”
“Not here.” She closed her eyes. “Please not here.”
Odd. This was supposed to be the fanciest place in town. It’d taken some magical strings for me to secure us a reservation, as half the senior class seemed to be dining here before the dance.
Was that why she didn’t want to go inside?
My lips twisted to the side. No. That couldn’t be it. She never let the other students intimidate her in class, so why would a restaurant be any different?
