I continue to walk. I’m to head to the restaurant on the second floor. I remember everything and when I reach the podium where the garson stands, my voice is steady. I am meeting someone. I tell him the name, and am led through the restaurant. The lights are low. The walls are decorated with rich fabrics and candelabras that match the large crystal fixture downstairs.
As I follow the man, I’m acutely aware of everything. Several sets of eyes lift and take in my figure before returning to their companions as I pass. I feel my heel strike the floor and the jolt through my body somehow makes me more confident. The tremble in my hands lessens and I hold my shoulders back. A soft smile lines my lips.
I think I’ll be able to do this. I think I’ll be able to pull it off. I feel perfect. I feel confident.
But then I see Sean. He’s sitting in a darkened corner with his dark hair covering those blue eyes. He doesn’t look up as I approach. His hand clutches a drink like it’s a lifeline. The vibrant young man I met is gone. I can only see the shattered remnants.
The waiter stops in front of the table. I step out from behind him and move toward Sean. I lift my hand and press my finger to the monogram in the center of his plate. This is confirmation of who I am, so that there are no mistakes. Miss Black said it’s our personal signal.
Sean doesn’t look at me. The waiter pulls out my seat. I turn and slip silently into it and am handed a menu. I watch Sean the entire time. He won’t look at me. Every piece of me wants to comfort him. Something is horribly wrong. I can tell.
We sit in silence until I think he’ll never look up. Then, his dark head tilts back and those sapphire eyes lift and meet my gaze. Confusion flashes across his face at first, but it’s quickly quashed by anger.
“What is this?” Sean growls at me, his voice low enough to not attract attention.
Fear wraps its icy fingers around my heart and squeezes. I no longer know what I want. I thought Sean would be happy to see me, but he isn’t. I don’t want to leave him looking so betrayed, but I don’t think I want to stay either.
“Hi,” I manage, which is severely lacking.
“I repeat, what is this? Some kind of joke?” Anger surges in his voice.
“No,” I say softly. “A coincidence.”
Sean watches me, trying to sense the lie that he thinks I’m telling, but I’m not. “I’m sure,” he says sarcastically. Shaking his head, Sean looks at me with venom in his eyes, “I thought Black wanted my business, but this is unacceptable. Go back to your boss and tell her the deal is off. I’ll find what I need elsewhere. I don’t condone her actions or being followed. I won’t be manipulated.” Sean stands abruptly. I know he’s angry. He’s going to leave. He’s going to chew out Miss Black.
“Wait,” I say, standing with him. I reach for his hand and hold onto his wrist. My voice sounds strained and quivers as I speak. “Please, don’t tell her. She doesn’t know. Sean, I know what it looks like, but please believe me.”
His cold gaze cuts to my hold on his arm. I release him and take a small breath. “Why should I?”
“Because you’re a good man and I need you to.”
He stares at me for a moment and then sits back down in his chair. I return to my seat. He works his jaw as he considers me. “Explain, and don’t lie to me.”
I feel like I’m on trial. I want him to stay. I need him to stay. He’s my last lifeline. Without him, without this job, I’m lost. My eyes dart away from his. “I’m not supposed to talk about me, but since I’ve already done something I wasn’t supposed to—”
“Just tell me.” Sean folds his arms over his chest. The waiter tries to come over to take our order, but the look on Sean’s face scares him away.
I wring my hands in my lap under the table. Nervously, I say, “I need this job. When I saw your profile, I wanted…” I stumble trying to explain myself. “I thought it’d be nice that we’d already met. I haven’t done this before, obviously, and—”
“I have trouble believing that,” he snaps.
“Believe whatever you want, but facts are facts and you would have figured it out if I didn’t screw everything up. Miss…” I bite my tongue to keep from saying Miss Black’s name, “she doesn’t know that I met you before, that I kissed you before.” I stare into his eyes remembering that kiss, remembering the softness and desire. “She doesn’t know, but I wanted to know you more, and I needed this. This encounter may not matter much to you, but it means everything to me.” Before I realize it, my hands are on top of the table. I’m clutching them so tightly that my knuckles turn white.