Page 32 of One Bossy Date

Both inside and out.

13

ZOE

When we walked in, Anders, looking impossibly handsome in his tailored black suit, slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his body. It surprised me—not only the touch but the way it made me feel. I realized that we’d hardly touched before now (except when he hadso, sosoftly brushed my cheek before ournot-kiss), at the very moment we appeared in front of my family. I had to try and hide the chills that raced up my arms, and silently cursed my choice of dress. My racing pulse pounded in the little hollow between my collarbones, and thanks to the neckline, anyone who looked there could see it.

As a waiter showed us to our table, I smiled at my family, waved, and silently mouthed hellos. Most of them stared back in surprise or turned to whoever was closest to them to point me out. Was it such a miracle that I’d shown up on the arm of the handsomest man in the room? Before that thought spoiled my mood, I reminded myself who this sexy man by my side was. It was quite possible that someone here might recognize Anders Windham from the papers, since he was one of the biggest construction gurus in Manhattan. I searched the room for my gran, not finding her. An attentive waiter informed us she would soon be out on stage for an opening speech before drinks were served and mingling would take place.

I had to say, that was one small relief. It would allow me to settle in and catch my breath.

Then I noticed from my seat that Brody was here.

Sweet Jesus…why, Gran, why?Why was he still here? Yes, he was a family friend, but he wasn’t family, so I’d assumed he wouldn’t come since I wasn’t going to be his date. But oh, no, there he was. Either because Gran had insisted, or because he had. Without hesitation his eyes were on me, my breasts, me again, then flicking between me and my date.

I felt the stares from every direction like acupuncture pins, drawing deeper and deeper into my skin.

“You okay?” The sexiest mumble sounded right next to my ear.

Anders was seated beside me, his arm over the back of my chair, and I could feel his breath brush the skin of my neck.

I gave him a quick nod. “I think so…trying to ignore the stares.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“Thanks.”

Our table was a six-seater. One chair at the head was reserved for my gran, and the other three were occupied by her close friend, Ben, and her youngest sister, my Aunty Janet, and her husband. Ben was my gran’s low-key live-in lover, AKA boyfriend, but no one ever called her out for that.

The restaurant really was stunning, in an intimate way. The lighting was low, the tables closely packed together, and there were secluded corners for privacy. To the right was a bar next to a small stage.

When Aunt Mags stepped up to a mic on the stage, she seemed nervous in her shimmering dress and dangling earrings, but she got the crowd giggling along with her when she introduced Granny Dotty. The very same woman appeared from a door to the left, banging through the swinging doors and making her theatrical entry to applause from her family and friends. I laughed when she stretched her arms out wide and strode in as if she were a magician’s assistant.

Her long, velvety red dress suited her perfectly, with her dark-gray hair pinned up with a red rose in a clip. Clearly, she was taking the Greek theme of the night seriously, but she could also pass as an opera singer with all her dramatics. What a stunning diva!

She stepped up to the mic, kissed Aunt Mags, then thanked everyone for coming out. “I invited you all out here tonight, and I said it was to celebrate my seventy-seventh birthday. But now that we’re all here, I’ll tell you the real reason.” She connected with every pair of eyes in the room, holding my and Ben’s gazes the longest, before saying in a low voice, “The truth is…I don’t age. At least, not on the inside.” She chuckled at her own joke. “Inside, I’m still eighteen and always will be!” She raised her voice cheerfully, ending her speech. “Let’s party!”

The room cheered, and the waiters appeared, delivering bottles of red wine to each table. The head waiter had Anders test and approve it for our table, and began to pour for everyone.

A few moments later, my gran made her way down from the stage, her gaze pinned on me. She had this look of excited astonishment as she headed our way, waving off my cousins who tried to grab her attention. “I’ll get to you all soon! Let me just accost my granddaughter first.”

I rose to my feet with a wide smile and Anders—having finished a chat with the waiter—stood next to me, his hand tauntingly perched on the small of my back.

“Look at you, my dear. Just stunning. Stunning!” she said, and I chuckled gratefully. “The gold is exquisite on you.” I leaned in to kiss her cheek, happy with her words.

“Ah, Gran, this is Anders. My date.” It felt strange saying that out loud. At least it wasn’t a lie. He was my date, if only for that one evening.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Jones.” He stepped forward and took her hand in his, giving her a polite smile. “Happy birthday to you.”

“Thank you for coming, Anders.” She winked at me then. “I believe you and my granddaughter met only…recently?”

“Yes,” he confirmed when Granny finally let go of his hand, and smiled warmly at me. “And what a lucky day that was.”

I felt his hand running down my back. His fingertips lightly touched my exposed skin, then trailed down over my dress. Electricity sparked through me, sending shivers skating across my limbs.

The way he was touching me was so new and unexpected that I felt myself becoming distracted from the fact that this was just a show. It felt like we really were a couple. It was exactly what I needed from him—and what we had negotiated—but that made it no less enticing.

“Lucky’s the word.” My gran eyed us both, as if she suspected us.

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