Page 52 of The Last Date

“The beef short ribs braised with coffee chili sauce sounded amazing, but I don’t need to drink. Just water with lime would be great, thank you.”

Oakley motioned to the server to give us a moment.

His fingers slipped into mine under the table. “Baby, it’s absolutely fine if you drink in front of me. I have to have little sips here and there when I’m tasting things. It’s not like if I have one drop I’m going to turn into a monster.”

“Are you sure? It doesn’t seem fair.”

“I’m surrounded by it. I’m over it. I don’t crave it anymore.”

His green eyes twinkled in the amber light from the old-fashioned cut glass above us. “Actually, I lie. If you’re having the beef, I know what you should have, and I’m going to steal one sip.”

He waved the server over. “A glass of the Amarone for the lady, and I’ll have a coffee, black.”

“The Amarone only comes by the bottle, sir,” the server said softly.

“That’s fine. We’ll take the rest of the bottle home and I’ll cook with it tomorrow.”

The server nodded with a little grin and disappeared.

Looking around the room, people were definitely giving us sideways glances. “Are people always looking at you?” I whispered.

“No,” Oakley said, his gaze sweeping around the space as a half dozen heads snapped back to their dinners. “But this is a foodie crowd, and I’ve been in the news lately because of the new restaurant. Don’t worry, it will pass in a month.”

“Until the next restaurant,” I said, pleased that I made him grin. “How many will be enough?”

“We’ll see.”

I learned a lot as Oakley told me little details about how the dishes were prepared. He knew the chef, who sent out our appetizer with a neatly-printed note that read, “You’ll wish you invented these.”

The entire meal was spectacular, and it was wonderful to learn more about Oakley’s job, and the whole restaurant industry.

It was one of those things that I’d never thought about before. The amount of work and pressure and timing that went into a restaurant’s successful dinner service seemed incredible. Now that I watched the servers dashing around, studying every single table, not just their own, I resolved to become a much better tipper.

When the bill arrived, Oakley didn’t even glance, just slipped a credit card into the little leather folder. Making a mental note to buy him coffee or lunch soon, I was surprised when the server returned looking worried.

“I’m so sorry, sir, but your card has been declined.”

“That’s impossible.” Oakley looked slightly irritated, but not concerned.

“I ran it three times. It could just be a glitch. But don’t worry – the manager says that it’s on the house, and he’s so glad that you both came to visit us this evening.” She smiled warmly, then disappeared.

Oakley slipped a fifty into the folder for a tip, then picked up his card to put it away, but paused. “This is your dad’s bank, isn’t it?” he asked me.

Prickling heat spread across my back and my ears started to ring slightly. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Had he?

“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my God, Oakley, I’m so sorry.”

He waved his hand as if it were no big deal. “It’s most likely a glitch. My accountant pays the credit cards off completely every month. Maybe the computers are down tonight or something, who knows.”

As we stood up, he took my hand and led me outside of the restaurant.

“I noticed a few people staring at the gorgeous girl I’m with,” he grinned, holding the door for me. “You look even more breathtaking than usual tonight, Sasha.”

I felt like I was glowing from within

as he took my hand on the way to the car. Suddenly he pulled me against him, his hands grinding against my ass as his lips seared against mine. It thrilled me to the bones to feel how much I aroused him.

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