Page 36 of The Last Date

Sarah: I finally got into my mother’s laptop when she was out and checked her charity files. Caspian’s last name is Eastman. I assume Oakley would have the same last name.

My knees weakened as I practically fell into my chair.

Me: Are you sure?

Sarah: He’s the only Caspian in the files. I mean, it’s not a very common name.

Me: Thanks. I really appreciate it.

Sarah: Call me later if you want to talk this through.

Me: Thank you.

The first thing I wanted to do was call Oakley, but he said that he was busy all day. The biggest question was, busy doing what?

My phone’s browser wasn’t the best, but I looked up Oakley Eastman. The first thing that popped up was a news hit for a special exclusive tasting event being held at five-thirty this evening at the Eastman Corporation’s new restaurant, Nurture.

It was mainly an invitation-only event, to test and celebrate the new late summer menu. The website said that there were a few first come, first served, last-minute spots.

My limbs were heavy as I locked up the gallery and began walking to the restaurant. It was a bit west and south of the gallery, but wasn’t far. My legs felt hollow and I dragged them slowly. I needed to see it for myself.

He owned a corporation? Or did he work for Caspian? My mind swam with questions, making me foggy.

As I approached the gleaming white, silver, and glass building space that was most of the first floor of an office tower, the realization hit me like a chilly breeze. I had no idea what to say. I’d never had an argument with anyone besides my parents, and those I avoided at all

costs. I had no idea what to do in this situation.

My gut screamed at me to leave, and just call him tomorrow. But I wanted to take a peek, and see what it was he actually did.

My feet felt coltish and awkward walking up the grand marble steps. I saw the closed sign on the door and was instantly relieved. But a black-uniformed woman opened it for me immediately.

“You must be here for the tasting, Miss. They’re just about to begin.”

I was ushered into the majestic dining room, filled with a crowd of at least fifty people. They all looked extremely posh. Several of them appeared rather smug about being there, as they peered around the room to see who else was in attendance.

The room twinkled from the chandeliers above, and the fine crystal goblets as people drank wine, chatting quietly. The slightly hushed tone implied that something exciting was about to begin.

As soon as I was seated, the woman across the table said, “I already knew that I’d have Eastman cater my daughter’s wedding, but any excuse to try a brand new menu, right?”

The people around her laughed, then the room became quiet as a tall, striking man dressed in chef’s blacks stepped out of the back area.

Oakley.

My head spun, realizing that it was no wonder he always seemed obsessed with bringing me the perfect food.

The servers were still rushing around making sure that everyone had wine, and it seemed like he was waiting for everyone to become still.

Then those intense green eyes met mine, and my breath stopped. In a split second, I decided that if he seemed the slightest bit irritated, I’d just leave immediately.

Instead, he smiled warmly, rushing to kneel beside my chair. My gasp of shock was muffled by his soft, light kiss. Everyone in the room seemed to be staring, as I felt my face flush with heat. Oakley only kissed me again, whispering, “I’m so glad you’re here, my angel.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

* Oakley *

I knew that my clever girl would find me out sooner or later. The most important thing in the world was for Sasha to love me. That included being incredibly happy to see her at all times, even when she was flustered and unsure.

After running my ass off all day long, kissing Sasha softly was pure heaven.

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