Page 17 of Ella's Masquerade
“Where did you go to school before Darlington?” she asked, following me inside. “The local high school?”
I snorted. “No.” I paused our conversation to give Belinda a little wave, and her lips curled into a welcoming grin from behind the bar.
She whistled, taking in my suit, and laughed. “You didn’t need to get all dressed up on my account, hon.”
“But you know how much I enjoy impressing you, Mrs. B.”
She scoffed at that and gestured toward the booths along the side of the bar. “Take a seat wherever you want, Tray. You know the drill.”
“Indeed I do,” I replied, placing my palm against Isabella’s back and steering her toward my favorite spot.
Her blue eyes drilled into mine after sliding into the seat across from me, the low lighting overhead glowing off her blonde hair. “Okay, so where did you live before if it wasn’t in Darlington?”
“Cutting straight to the interview, are we?” I teased, sliding a menu across to her. “And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I lifted my gaze to hers. “But if you behave tonight, perhaps I’ll show you.”
She scoffed. “Is that supposed to be a line to get me back to your place?” Her expression matched her retort. “Because that’s not happening.”
I covered my heart. “You wound me, Isabella.”
“It’sElla, and I highly doubt that.” She looked me over with an appraising glance. “We both know your pride is safe from the likes of me.”
She couldn’t be more wrong, but I chose not to argue her point and focused on another instead. “How about a deal,” I proposed. “I’ll call you Ella, as you clearly prefer, if you agree to at least give me a chance tonight. You’ve made a lot of assumptions for someone who has only met me a handful of times. I want a chance to prove some of those wrong.”
“Yeah, I typically draw conclusions about a person after they try to drown me the first time,” she replied, not missing a beat. “But sure. I’ll let you try a second time, if it means getting my name right.”
My lips twitched. “I didn’t try to drown you, sweetheart.”
“No?” Her eyebrows rose. “Was that your version of flirting, then?”
“It was my version of protecting you,” I replied just as Belinda approached with two waters and a basket of peanuts. She read off the specials for Ella’s benefit more than mine—I wanted wings and Mrs. B. knew it—and then left us to make our decisions.
But my date wasn’t looking at the menu at all, her focus fully on me.
“You were trying to protect me by holding me underwater?” she asked, incredulous.
“If you don’t look at the menu, I’m going to order wings for you,” I warned her. “So I hope you like chicken.”
“I don’t care about food,” she returned, crossing her arms. “I want to know how drowning me protects me.”
Sighing, I braced my elbows on the table and leaned toward her. “It’s a game, Ella. One I intend to control.”
She blinked at me. “What? How? Why?”
“Because I want to keep you safe,” I replied, gesturing for Belinda. “Give me tonight and I’ll help you understand.”
Mrs. B. arrived before Ella could utter a word. I ordered a variety of wings for us both, as well as cheese fries, celery sticks, and two cherry Cokes. Belinda shook her head, muttering something about where I put all the calories, and left us to our conversation.
Ella studied me intently, that brain of hers no doubt flying through a series of scenarios. “Why would you care about my safety?” she demanded.
“Because I like you,” I admitted, leaning back into my booth. “And I don’t much care for Dash or Charlie.”
“Yet you’ve been hanging out with them all week.”
“Spying on me, dove?” I waggled my brows. “All you need to do is ask for my time and it’s all yours.”
She snorted. “Stop with the flirtatious diversions. What’s your play here?”
“Who says they’re diversions?” I countered, cocking my head. “And my play here is simple. I want you, Ella.”
