The Billionaire’s Betrothed(13)

We sat alone, staring at the three empty chairs surrounding our table.

Though I was curious about the third waiting seat, every time my lips parted I felt as if I was in serious danger of barfing up my nerves all over the exquisite set of the table. The only time I managed past that was to lift the champagne flute to my mouth.

"There's really no need to be so wound up." He added, gracefully gliding his arm across the back of my chair, "My parents are cool."

As cool as the hoity-toity could be, I reckoned. I highly doubted the billionaire Mr. and Mrs. Davis would be ‘cool.’

My eyes scurried around the restaurant once more, watching as classily dressed waiters seemed to float around with trays lined high with exquisitely plated food and drinks.

The red carpeted floors glittered under chandeliers, candles lit in every corner though the lights were dim and romantic. Couples gazed at each other lovingly across tables, and I wished I could join one of their fun evenings instead of being where I was now.

I'd never been to a place like this before, and in my new life as a Davis, I doubted it would be the last. I would have to get used to places like this.

I was so nervous, in fact, that I barely reacted to the feeling of Sebastian's fingers brushing against the back of my neck, trailing over the sensitive flesh of my shoulder.

He'd truly taken to the part of playing a love struck, newly engaged couple. I, on the other hand, looked much more guilty.

A server suddenly appeared at my side like a magical, champagne bearing genie.

As he filled my glass, the familiar sound of clicking stilettos echoed from around the corner. A high pitched giggle and a flip of scarlet hair followed as Alissa stepped around the bend.

She’d changed out of her work clothes, swaddled up in the tiniest, sheerest black dress I'd ever seen in my life. She sank effortlessly down into one of the chairs, thanking the waiter as he handed her a glass of merlot. I was shocked the tight dress didn’t split right up the back as she sat.

"George, Karina," She called over her shoulder beckoning beyond the wall, "Hurry up now, that bar isn't going anywhere."

Sebastian stood sharply as I awkwardly leapt up to follow, unsure whether it was my nerves or the alcohol that made me sway on my feet.

A robust, red faced man stepped around, reaching out to firmly shake the hand of my fiancé.

"Good to see you, Sebastian." He said, his London toned voice haggard and gravelly from years of commanding respect.

His eyes, blue as his son's, shifted towards me, "Goode evening, Macy." He said, though his eyes were uninterested.

He gave my hand a limp shake before pulling out the chair for the woman beside him.

A gorgeous woman with black eyes and Sebastian's tan skin, her gaze was much more intimidating than Mr. Davis’s. I could practically smell the judgement rolling off of her tense shoulders as she kissed Sebastian on the cheek.

"Mother, this is Macy Brooks. My fiancée." Sebastian said uncomfortably as the woman sat down without acknowledging me whatsoever.

Alissa cleared her throat, exchanging knowing glances with Mr. Davis.

"I am aware, Bast." She replied primly, arranging herself into her chair with the regality of a queen. She was equally approachable as an empress.

As Sebastian and I sank back into our chairs, it became clear to me that being welcomed into this family was not going to be as easy as Sebastian had implied.

"Do you know what you'll be ordering then, Macy?" Karina Davis asked, ebony eyes piercing my soul.

I was all too mindful that this was some sort of test, and unfortunately for me, I had no idea what the woman was hoping to hear from me.

"Ah, no." I said, with a timid chuckle, "I'm afraid I haven't gotten a chance to look at the menu."

Without breaking her intense stare, Karina handed me one.

"I'm sorry." She said snidely, "I wasn't aware you haven't come here before. Though that doesn’t exactly surprise me."

She turned to face her son, shaking her head as though I'd done the one thing that proved how much of a disappointment I was.

"How about you, Alissa?" She asked, though her intense stare didn’t part from Sebastian, "Do you know what you’ll be dining on?"

"I can't resist the duck here." The redhead sighed with a thoughtful tap of her perfectly shaped chin, "It practically melts in your mouth."

Dammit. I should've gone with that. Rich people love duck.

Sebastian, either oblivious or pretending not to notice his mother's death stare, happily wrapped his arm around my shoulder once more as he glanced down at the menu.

"Get the shrimp." He murmured into my ear, "It's great."

"Okay." I mumbled dejectedly, not even comforted by the warmth of his breath against my earlobe.