“Okay, I’m not a vegetarian,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to like what you ordered.”
“You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
Warmth spread throughout my chest at the implication that we’d be spending more time together in the future. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how insanely attracted to him I was or that he seemed to have Weston’s stamp of approval, but Rhys had managed to sneak past my usual defenses. “Only when you need it,” I quipped with a confidence I wasn’t feeling.
“Well this time around, I can assure you it’s unwarranted. The chef who owns this place is a client of mine. I picked each of his best dishes and figured we could share them all. I’m sure at least one of them will be to your liking. Plus, once the waitress lets him know the order is for me, he’ll send out whatever special he’s working on for tomorrow’s menu.”
It took everything I had in me not to thump my head against the table. Of course he knew the owner. He was… him. While I was… me. Except, he didn’t look at me like I was a girl he’d met while she was working at a sex toy shop. And he wasn’t treating me like it either. Although I was a virgin who was out of practice when it came to dating—had never really even been in practice before—it was hard to miss that he was trying to impress me with the fancy restaurant, the bottle of champagne that was promptly delivered to the table, and ordering for me. It was working, too. All the wooing he was doing had me interested to know more about him.
After several dishes had been served, I had to admit, he was right. It was all amazing. Except for the one that had a shrimp garnish. I tried not to wrinkle my nose in disgust, but Rhys caught my flinch, laughed, and instructed the waitress to clear it from the table.
“What exactly is it that you do with clients who own places like this?”
I listened raptly as he told me about his work as the owner of an extremely successful investment firm. It was impressive, and his intelligence shone through while he talked about growth stocks, futures contracts, and margins. I didn’t fully understand at least half of what he explained, but I certainly enjoyed watching how animated he became while sharing his work. It was clear to me that he was happy with his career. It became equally clear how unhappy he was about what I did to earn a living when the topic came up as we were finishing our meal.
“How long have you worked at Dirty Players?” His voice roughened at the end of his question, as though he forced the name of my employer past his lips.
“A little more than a year.”
“That long?” he grunted, his grey eyes flashing at me.
“Yup.” I wasn’t about to offer more information, not when he was glowering at me.
“Why—”
Whatever he was going to ask was more than likely to cause an argument between us, so it was probably for the best that he was interrupted.
“Rhys, it’s good to see you.”
I glanced over Rhys’s shoulder and found an attractive, and familiar, man standing in front of our table. He was about the same height as Rhys, long and lean, with sandy brown hair and sparkling green eyes… and those green orbs were aimed straight at me.
“And you brought me a gorgeous guest.”
Rhys slid his arm over my shoulders, tugging me close to his side as he glared at his friend. “I didn’t bring you shit, Owen.”
“Ahhh,” the famous chef, who I’d seen on television, sighed as he flashed me a sexy grin. “It’s like that, is it? She must be something really special to get you to give up your monk-like ways.”
“Yes, she’s special.” I felt his lips brush against the top of my head when he paused. “And she’s also none of your damn business.”
“Aww, don’t be that way, Rhys. I just want to offer her something irresistibly decadent.”
“Fuck,” Rhys groaned, his head dropping low as a muscle in his cheek jumped.
“A dessert!” Owen cried out, trying to look innocent with his hands held up in front of him. “Geesh, what kind of a guy do you think I am?”
“The playboy kind.” The answer just popped out of my mouth, since I was thinking about everything I’d heard about the famous chef.
“Don’t believe everything you see in the papers, beautiful.” I felt bad because the twinkle in his eyes had dimmed, but I didn’t have time to apologize before Rhys climbed out of the booth and was tugging me along with him.
“We’ll have to take a raincheck on dessert. I need to get my angel home.”
I tossed Owen a little wave and smile over my shoulder as Rhys practically dragged me through the empty dining room to the door.