He’s not outright suggesting that we go back to his place, but the implication is there. I’m not ready for that.
“There’s a wine bar a few blocks from here. It’s quiet.” I take my fate into my own hands. We can share a drink, maybe a first kiss, but getting naked with this man tonight isn’t going to happen.
My body wants it, but it’s too soon. Regret will crawl into bed with me the moment he rolls out of it.
His jaw flexes. “Lead the way, Olivia.”
***
“You were serious when you said this place is quiet.” Alexander shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it over the back of a chair. “How in the hell is a place like this not packed on a Friday night?”
It’s a good question that I don’t have an answer to.
Kate and I stumbled on this wine bar months ago after we exited a movie theater. We stopped in to have a glass of chardonnay, and it’s now become one of our favorite haunts in this part of the city.
It’s quaint, quiet and the selection of wine is extensive.
A few of the stools next to the massive bar are occupied, and two of the square wooden tables are surrounded by groups of people, but this corner where we situated ourselves is unoccupied if you don’t count the couple who are staring into each other’s eyes, oblivious to everyone around them.
I took a seat at a table diagonal from where they are. Alexander didn’t say a word as he held the back of my chair when I sat down. He was considerate enough to help me with my trench coat as I slipped it off my shoulders. After carefully folding it in two, he laid it over the back of the same chair where he just placed his tuxedo jacket.
Alexander’s mouth quirks when he sees a server approaching our table. “You’ll order for us both, Olivia.”
I don’t hesitate in telling the server what I’m in the mood for. I listen to her recommendations. Not one of them fits the bill of what my palate is craving.
I can feel Alexander’s eyes on me when I finally suggest two glasses of a dark red that Kate and I sampled a few weeks ago.
“You know your wine,” he says when the server walks away. “I’m impressed.”
“That I drink a lot of wine?” I lean back in the chair.
He shakes his head and glances down at where I’ve placed my hands on the edge of the table. “I have a question.”
“Ask away.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you involved with anyone?”
The question catches me off-guard although it shouldn’t. He doesn’t know my relationship status. He’s never asked and I don’t think Trey would be quick to offer up a detail about me that’s so personal.
“If I’ve overstepped,” he continues, his lips inching up into a smile. “You’ll forgive me.”
He’s so confident. I’d find that annoying if he weren’t sexy-as-sin.
“I’m not involved,” I say directly. “Are you?”
He holds my gaze before he answers. “No.”
I’m tempted to ask him about the woman in the red dress that I saw him with at the cocktail reception, but I won’t. That was a private moment between him and someone else.
“You’ll come home with me tonight, Olivia.”
My brows pop as I replay the words in my mind. There wasn’t a question mark at the end of that sentence. He’s assuming that I’m going home with him.
He looks calm and controlled as he stares at me across the table.
“No. I won’t, Alexander.”
His jaw clenches. “Have I misread the energy between us?”
I suppose it’s a better response than why, although it’s just logistics. He wants an explanation for why I’m not willing to jump into his bed tonight.
I look up as the server places a glass of wine on a cocktail napkin in front of me before she does the same for Alexander.
She waits patiently for me to sample it, but I know if I pick it up now, I’ll down the fragrant red liquid in one gulp.
“It’s fine.” I smile at her. “Thank you.”
She glances at Alexander before she nods silently and leaves.
He takes a healthy sip of the wine, his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
“Olivia,” he begins as he lowers the glass. “I want…”
“I don’t sleep with men I don’t know.” I gloss my tongue over my bottom lip. “We just met.”
He inhales deeply, his gaze dropping to the wine glass in front of me before he looks into my eyes again. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
It’s not the reaction I anticipated. I thought we’d finish our drinks, part ways and that would be the end of my story with Alexander Donato.
“Don’t look so surprised, Olivia.” He leans in closer to me. “You’ll get to know me better and then we’ll revisit this discussion.”
“This discussion?” I parrot back.
“My intense desire to fuck you isn’t going anywhere.” He moves so his lips are almost touching mine. “We’ll have dinner tomorrow and take it from there.”
I pull back so I can find some air to breathe that doesn’t taste like him. “I won’t sleep with you tomorrow either.”
The corner of his mouth twitches into an almost smile. “Duly noted. I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock tomorrow evening.”
“You don’t know where I live,” I point out, feeling a blush taking over my cheeks.
“You live somewhere in the vicinity of Broadway and Eighty-first.”
“How do you know that?”
He takes another sip of the wine before he answers me. “I overheard you telling it to the cab driver outside the pub.”
He remembered?
“You can tell me your address or I can ring the buzzer of every apartment in every building on that block until I find you.” He drops his voice. “Your choice.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’ll tell you my address.”
He slides his fingers across the screen of his phone. “And your phone number.”
I give both without hesitation, watching as he enters my information into his smartphone.
Once the phone is back on the table, he lifts his wine glass in the air. “Let’s toast to getting to know each other better.”
I lift my glass and clink it against his.
The wolfish grin on his face is telling me that tomorrow night will be just as interesting as tonight has been.
I can’t wait.
Chapter 19
Alexander
Olivia lives closer to Amsterdam than Broadway. I’m not surprised she gave the taxi driver the address of an intersection a block from where she lives.
Most New Yorkers would rather walk the few extra steps than pay the added fare for the driver to circle the block to get onto a one-way street.
“Where are we going for dinner?” She looks up at me expectantly.
I haven’t seen her dressed like this before, which is why I requested it via text earlier today.
I reached out this afternoon to confirm that we were still on for eight o’clock. I anticipated she’d ask what to wear.
When she did, I told her we were keeping it casual tonight.
The faded jeans and white sweater she’s wearing are perfect.
Her hair is down around her shoulders.
She looks relaxed and content. I’m hoping to keep her that way for the duration of the evening.
“We’re having pizza.” I reach for her hand. “We can walk there from here.”
Her eyes rake me from head-to-toe taking in the jeans, gray V-neck sweater and dark blue blazer I’m wearing.
“Pizza?” Her button nose scrunches.
I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re not a fan?”
She taps the toe of her black boot against the floor.
We’re still in the lobby of her building. I buzzed her when I arrived, hoping for an invitation up to her apartment, but she answered with a curt, “I’ll be down in five.”
It was more like fifteen, but I busied myself with returning text messages from Ph
oebe and Jack.
When she finally stepped off the elevator, any frustration I felt vanished at the sight of her.
“It’s never my first choice,” she admits. “Besides, I’ve lived in this neighborhood for months and I know for a fact that there isn’t a decent pizza place within walking distance of here.”
Honesty. It’s refreshing.
“Five hundred and fifty-two people on Yelp would disagree with that. They all gave the place a five-star review.”
“I’m not one of them.”
I laugh aloud. “Apparently not. What do you want to eat, Olivia?”
“I’ve had a craving all week.”
“For?” I arch a brow.
I don’t give a fuck what it is because I know she’s not craving me, yet. I’ll take her to any restaurant in the city if it means I’m a step closer to feeling her body against mine.
“A lobster roll,” she says quietly. “There’s this restaurant in the Financial District. They make lobster rolls just like the ones I have in Boston when I go there, and because it matters to you, their Yelp score is…”
She scrolls a finger over her phone’s screen. “Give me a minute to find it, but I guarantee they’re rated higher than the pizza place you wanted to go to.”
I watch her fingers tap over the screen, moving with deliberate precision.
“Here it is,” she announces with a smile. “Their rating is…”
“Inconsequential,” I interrupt. “Put your phone away, Olivia. If you have a craving, I’ll satisfy it.”
A blush creeps over her cheeks. “I just want a lobster roll, Alexander.”
“It’s a start.” I hold out my hand. “This is step one in getting to know each other better.”
“Step one,” she repeats as she takes my hand.
***
“Since you ate two lobster rolls, I take it you approve of my choice for dinner.” She smiles widely.
I nod as I finish off the last of the beer in my glass. We’ve been here for over an hour. The service was quick; too quick. My desire to learn more about Olivia was put on hold because of the complimentary breadsticks and the entrees, which arrived before our drinks.
She’s nervous. I can tell. Her leg has been vibrating since we sat in this booth.
I wanted to slide in next to her, but she teetered so close to the edge that I had no choice but to take a seat on the bench across from her.
“How long have you worked at Liore?” I ask before she has a chance to call it a night. I’m anticipating that happening at any moment since her gaze keeps diving to the antique silver men’s watch on her wrist.
My questions about that will have to wait for another time. I’m hoping it’s not a treasured memento of a long lost lover. I don’t handle competition with ease, even if it’s only grounded in memories.
When I’m with a woman, I want her undivided attention. I give her as much, so I expect the same, whether that’s for a night, a week or in one case, two years.
“Forever,” she answers effortlessly. “I started as a sales associate at the store on Fifth Avenue years ago.”
“You’ve always worked for the company?”
She shifts in her seat. “Foster Enterprises is an amazing organization. They treat all of their employees with respect. I’m honored that I’m part of their team.”
It’s a canned response that would bring a wide grin to the face of her boss, Gabriel Foster. I’ve spent time with the man recently.
His family is his priority, but his company is a close second. He’d take pride in hearing those words coming from one of his employees.
“What about you?” She takes the lead and asks a question of her own. “What made you want to be a conductor?”
“Music,” I go on, “I’ve always loved classical music. I studied the cello and piano when I was a kid. Went to college and earned a degree. From there I traveled, played, learned more, and when someone I admired suggested I consider conducting, I gave it a shot.”
The details of where, when and who don’t matter. A broad view of how I ended up on that stage last night is all she’s looking for.
Studying my face, she brushes a strand of hair back behind her ear. Her lips purse before she speaks. “Do you believe everyone can learn how to play an instrument?”
“Yes,” I answer without reservation. “The ability to play is about technique.”
Resting her elbow on the table, she leans toward me. “I have to disagree.”
She’s failed miserably at learning how to play an instrument. It’s a story I’ve heard far too often in my life from people who couldn’t master the piano, a guitar or a violin.
“Did your piano teacher quit during your first lesson?”
Her brows shoot up and a giggle escapes her. “Third lesson.”
“How old were you?” I lean forward as well until my hands are almost touching hers on the tabletop.
“Seven.”
“You tried again?” I hold back the urge to smile.
“Never,” she answers on a sigh.
I glide the tip of my index finger over her thumb. “Why not?”
She gazes down at the movement of my hand. “I hate failing.”
Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.
I trail my finger from the base of her thumb to her wrist, circling a tight path over her soft skin. “I’ll teach you.”
“You like a challenge,” she whispers.
I grab her wrist in my hand. Turning it over, I bring it to my lips. I kiss the tender skin. “I love a challenge.”
Her eyes lock on mine. “I’ll remember that.”
“Good.” I kiss her skin one last time before I let her wrist slip from my grasp. “That’s one thing you’ve learned about me. You know me better than you did yesterday.”
Her beautiful lips curve into a soft smile. “True, but not well enough to revisit our discussion from last night.”
“Understood.” I motion for the server. “I’ll settle up and we can head out.”
“Where to?” Her voice is soft.
“Your choice.” I tug my wallet from my suit pocket. “You chose this place. Our next move is in your hands.”
Chapter 20
Olivia
I took it as a challenge. When Alexander told me that I could choose where we’d spend time after dinner, I almost bailed on him.
I’m still nervous whenever I’m around him.
My pulse ticked up to a feverish pace when he wrapped his long fingers around my wrist.
The whisper of his full lips against my skin brought up an unexpected moan that I had to bite back.
I want more time with him, so I brought him here.
I study his profile as he takes in the sign hanging over the door of this non-descript building two blocks from Times Square.
“The Pink Parlor,” he reads the sign slowly.
“That’s right.” I nod.
“What happens inside the Pink Parlor, Olivia?” he asks as a couple breezes past us, walking down the sidewalk arm-in-arm.
I watch until they round the corner. “Use your imagination.”
His brow perks. “That’s dangerous.”
I laugh. “You’re a music lover. The Pink Parlor is famous for music. I think it’s a good fit.”
He glances at the building again. Dark blinds cover the windows, and the glass door is peppered with flyers from businesses that inhabit this block.
“I trust you.” He reaches for the handle on the door.
As soon as he opens it, pop music greets us both.
A smile ghosts his mouth. “I can’t wait to see what’s inside.”
I can’t wait to see if he’ll command the stage the way he did last night.
***
I shouldn’t have doubted Alexander’s ability to captivate any audience.
The people here tonight are an eclectic mix of young and old. I can’t tell if anyone recognizes him, but they all love what he’s doing on the stage.
Women are whistling, men are pumping their fists in the air and almost every person in the Pink Parlor is on their feet, dancing right along with Alexander.
I’ve never brought a date to this karaoke bar.
I’ve come here with Kate a handful of times, and once with her and her friend, Tilly.
Tonight is a brand new experience for me.
“Your boyfriend is awesome.” A middle-aged woman elbows me in the side. “He’s the life of the party.”
I laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He’s available?” She stares at the circular stage. “Do you happen to know if he’s into fifty-something divorced women?”
I wiggle both brows. “You can ask him as soon as the song is over.”
She shakes a finger at me. “No way. I’m going to lead the charge for an encore as soon as this song is done.”
I glance back at the stage to catch Alexander looking right at me as the song drifts into another chorus.
The crowd joins in, singing right along with him.
I shouldn’t be surprised. When he took the stage and asked for requests, it was a man who yelled out, “Never Gonna Give You Up.”
Alexander called back that he knew all the lyrics before the band started playing.
He can sing. He can dance too.
I’m starting to wonder if there’s anything Alexander Donato can’t do well.
As the song ends, the crowd starts chanting for an encore. Alexander’s hand pops into the air as he brings the microphone back to his lips. “I need a break, folks. Thanks for making me feel like a rock star for one night.”
Laughter fills the room as he steps down from the stage taking the stairs two at a time.
The people gathered near the stage part to let him pass through. Some of them pat him on the back. Others shake his hand.
By the time he reaches me, I’m grinning from ear-to-ear.
He picks up the bottle of beer he ordered before he hit the stage. “It’s your turn, Olivia.”
“Not tonight.” I shake my head. “My throat is a little scratchy.”
“Is that so?” He leans forward, his finger hovering over the skin of my neck. “You didn’t mention that earlier.”
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