by K L Rymer
Fudge. He really is gorgeous.
The jet black hair’s smoothed back, showing off the prominent bone structure of his face, and I gawp like an idiot. The black suit does wonders for his muscular frame, and my blood pumps in my veins.
His steel grey eyes penetrate me once again, and all my previous fears ebb away, replaced by something new.
Desire.
Gosh, I want this man. My lady parts cry out for him in ways they’ve never done before. It’s just not like me at all.
He seems to consume the entire back seat, a formidable force of nature. He’s not only ridiculously handsome but powerful too. He exudes dominance, and my little heart quakes when I catch a hint of that masculine scent.
It’s not cologne. That’s all him, and I’ve never smelled anything more enticing. It’s spicy yet erotic, and my heart hammers faster.
Those piercing grey eyes rove over my dress, and I’m grateful I never wore the one Babs handed me. Though I do feel a little jolt at the idea of him seeing me naked, but I push it away.
Now’s not the time, Crystal.
“You look... pink,” he says.
I smooth down my dress, blushing. “Thank you.”
Now my cheeks are as pink as my dress.
He orders the chauffeur to take us away, and I have no idea where we’re going as we pull out of Bab’s street.
“Where we going tonight?” I ask.
“Dinner.”
His response is curt, but I nod, grateful for the money I stowed away in my purse. Babs advised me to take cash. It shows a woman’s independence, not expecting the man to pay for everything, even if he has loads and loads of money.
Though I just hope he doesn’t take us anywhere that’s going to cost me more than £100.
We drive out of south London, and my stomach dips. “We’re not dining in south London?”
He chuckles. “Heavens, no. I... I mean... not for a lovely lady like you.”
I watch him confused. He seemed to change his tune awfully fast. Am I just being paranoid?
“Then where?”
“It’s a surprise,” he whispers, his voice thick and mysterious, and I gulp yet again.
Fudge. We’re eating in central London. Most likely Mayfair. How could I be so foolish to expect anything less?
I’m hardly dressed for the part, and I only brought one hundred pounds. Maybe if I just order a starter and skip the main, I’ll be fine.
He seems to feel my discomfort and takes my hand. I feel that strange buzz rush through my arm like it did at Bab’s café, and gaze at our interlocked hands.
What is this strange sensation? It’s like a magnetic force, and I can’t seem to pull away.
Eli suddenly let’s go, and a coldness sweeps down my arm at the lack of warmth. His warmth.
He meets my eyes instead, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. Was he trying to smile?
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay.”
I begin to protest but he cuts me off. “It’s okay, Crystal. I have more than enough for the both of us.”
I wriggle in my seat, uncomfortable. Babs did say that unless the man offers then it should be okay, but I still feel bad. It is the 21st century. Women should pay their own way, not relying on a man to do it for them. Even if said man was the son of a billionaire tycoon.
I’m an embarrassment to woman-kind everywhere.
“I’m old fashioned, Crystal,” Eli continues, interrupting my thoughts. “I was raised to be a gentleman, like all the men in my family. So it’s fine. Just sit back, and let me wine and dine you.”
A nervous titter leaves my lips, and I show him my teeth.
Well, he put that quite bluntly. But if he was happy to pay. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, they say.
We drive into central London, and the traffic becomes congested. I wonder if we will even make it to our dinner date on time. People bustle about the crowded streets, and I’m just grateful I’m not out there with them, getting lost amongst the sea.
Finally, we arrive at our destination, and I gape in awe at the grand restaurant. I see well-dressed people entering through the doors in elegant evening wear, and suddenly I regret wearing my vintage 50s dress.
“I’m... really not dressed for this place,” I say, my voice a nervous whisper.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, his voice sleek. “You’re with me. They’ll let you in.”
I sense the smugness in his tone again, and my mind wanders back to the article Babs found. I even sensed it when I asked if we were eating in London’s south end. He’d been condescending.
Could Eli really be a snob?
Or maybe I’m imagining things once again. Besides, if he truly were a snob, there was no way he would have ever stepped foot in Bab’s café. The clientele there are a little less glamorous than the folks here.
Eli climbs out the car and comes around to my side, opening the door for me. He really was playing the part of the gentleman.
Heads turn our way, and I wish the ground would swallow me up. I must look so unremarkable next to Eli. I think I can even hear their sneers.
Eli places his hand against my back, and I feel my heart flutter at his touch, painfully aware of his fingers on my bra strap.
He leads me up to the doors as we cross a grand red carpet. The doorman lets us inside with a cheery smile, and I suck in a breath when I take in the interior.
It’s all beautiful, shining marble with a giant crystal chandelier, and that’s just the lobby. The architecture is simply divine, and I feel as if I’ve walked into one of those old time movies.
There’s a velvet divan in the waiting area, and I’m tempted to go over and pass out onto its upholstered seat, but I hold back.
The porter lets us through, and soon we’re seated on a white round table, surrounded by more beautiful décor. The ceiling looks like it belongs in the Sistine Chapel, gold statues standing in every corner, and once again I regret wearing this garish pink dress. This place is too posh for the likes of me. The other customers look so spectacular in their evening wear, and I pale in comparison.
Eli, however, seems to be in his element as he opens up a menu and searches the dishes.
So I do the same and immediately regret it. I’ve never even heard of half the dishes on here, and the prices make me want to run out of the restaurant and go back to Croydon, but I stay put.
Besides, I need to be careful in case I accidentally order meat. There doesn’t seem to be many vegetarian options on here.
Eli orders lobster for his main and scallops for starters, and again I wonder if he truly is a snob.
Lobster on a Saturday night must be a regular occurrence for someone like him.
“See anything you like, Crystal,” he asks, fixing his grey eyes on me.
Startled, I peer down at the menu again. Well, I really don’t want to eat pigeon.
Seriously, people eat pigeon?
Blushing slightly, I peer up at the aloof waiter. He kind of looks like that one off Downton Abbey.
“Um... do you have a vegetarian menu?”
Without a word, the waiter pulls out a leather-bound menu from out of nowhere, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Thank goodness.
I go for smoked aubergine for my main and roasted onions for starters, and the waiter struts off like a proud penguin.
“You don’t eat meat? Sorry, I never knew.”
I meet Eli’s sorry gaze and shake my head. “It’s fine. It’s not something I feel the need to tell everyone I meet. Not like your typical vegan.”
I release a small laugh, and Eli raises a brow.
My cheeks blush. Fudge, why did I try to be funny? He most likely thinks I’m stupid and tasteless now.
We don’t talk much after that.
By long the waiter arrives with our food, and we eat in silence. My smoked aubergine is heavenly, but I can’t help but feel that it’s too good for my undeserving tongue.
Thi
s dish cost more than my weekly rent.
Eli eats like a gentleman, not leaving a single bit of mess behind. I, however, seem to cover the table with crumbs and stains, but the waiter’s always on hand to wipe away any debris, and I show him my gratitude.
After we finish, we order dessert. Well, I do (soufflé), but Eli just seems content to sip at his glass of wine. I go for a coke, and again, he seemed to understand when I told him I didn’t drink alcohol either. I must appear so boring and tame in comparison if his past exploits were anything to go by.
But maybe he was looking to change all that. Settle down with a girl, and possibly start a family.
I know it was a lot to expect on a first date, but I wasn’t foolish enough to still think that girl could be me. Something just seemed off about tonight.
A sigh leaves my lips as I gaze around the restaurant. The other guests seem so content and happy with their surroundings, while I feel like an intruder.
I don’t belong here. That much is obvious.
“Is there something wrong?” Eli asks.
He watches me with those smouldering grey eyes, and my cheeks heat up. They’re not the only things heating up though, and I turn uncomfortably in my seat.
Why did he have to be so good looking?
He arches a prominent brow. “Crystal?”
“It’s... nothing,” I lie, hoping he won’t see right through me.
“You’re lying.”
I squeeze my eyes tight shut, willing myself to disappear.
“Go on, you can tell me. Was there something wrong with your food?”
“No, it was perfect. It’s just... I... I feel a little... sort of out of my depth here, you know.”
His expression completely falls, and my heart rings inside my ears. Oh, fudge. I must sound so ungrateful.
“I’m sorry... I know you went through all this trouble—”
“No, it’s fine,” he dismisses, taking another sip of his wine. But I don’t miss the little glare in his eyes.
Had I upset him?
This date couldn’t get any worse. Maybe it’s best we just call it a night. I doubt he would even want a second date with me now anyway, a plain, simple girl who can’t appreciate the finer things in life.
My heart tugs at the thought of never seeing him again, this beautiful man who dared take the time to notice me when no one else would, and I remember that magnetic pull that passes between us whenever our hands meet.
It was something beyond natural. Like magic.
He places his glass on the table and watches me carefully now. I feel my cheeks burn again, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “What is it?”
“Something else is on your mind. Tell me.”
I fiddle with my thumbs, shivering. When had it suddenly grown cold?
“Well, go on. I won’t bite.”
I release a breath and meet his steel grey eyes. It’s like they’re gazing into my soul.
“I... I found an article about you online. It... didn’t show you in the best of light.”
He studies me for a while, his eyes unreadable. I panic, wondering if all the slander I’d read was true, and I was indeed dealing with a player. A lobster-eating, wine-sipping player...
Finally, he closes his eyes, brushing a hand through his hair. It falls over his face. “They are true... to an extent.”
My heart drops. “Oh...”
I don’t know why I’m so upset; he’s free to live his life any way he wants, regardless of me. We’re still strangers. It shouldn’t matter how many women he’s slept with before he even met me.
My stomach clenches when I think about some of the beautiful women he’s had, and shut my eyes.
Not now, Crystal.
“Does it bother you?”
“No... who am I to judge your lifestyle? We’re all free to live our lives the way we want. But why did you ever ask me out in the first place? I’m pretty unextraordinary compared to...”
“To whom?” he asks, his mouth curving slightly.
“Well, one of them has won several Oscars.”
He stops a moment, processing my words. His smirk widens. “She’s nothing special. Don’t believe what those beauty magazines tell you. You’re much prettier... in an unconventional kind of way.”
My skin flushes and suddenly the room grows hot again. I don’t know how to handle the compliment. No man has ever told me I’m pretty before. Well, not a man like Eli.
“Thank you, I’m... flattered.”
Eli takes my hand. The electric jolt returns, but he holds on this time. I meet his eyes, losing myself in their greyness. They’re like a swirling storm of rainclouds.
“On our next date, we’ll do something that you want to do. No more of this fancy wining and dining. I promise.”
His thumb massages mine and my breath hitches. I start to sweat, finding it hard to breathe.
I don’t blame all those women for throwing themselves at Eli so easily. My eyes wander over his dark suit and dress shirt, and my head spins.
What does he look like without that suit on?
Eventually, we leave the restaurant as he takes me back to Babs. The car pulls up outside her house.
All the lights are off. It’s almost eleven thirty. I know Babs had been kidding when she asked me to be back by ten thirty but I still worry. I hope she wasn’t concerned about me.
I make a move to open the door, but Eli comes around and opens it for me. I graciously take his hand as he leads me up to Bab’s house.
We stand outside the door for a while. This is how the couples always end the date in the movies, which often leads to a kiss.
My heart pumps in my chest. I’m not ready. Not yet. But one look at those kissable lips of his, and I change my mind. It’s as if they’re chiselled from marble. He has a distinctive dimple just above his Cupid’s bow, like an angel’s fingerprint, and I’m tempted to lean across and press my finger to it, but I hold back.
Besides, I doubt Eli would appreciate me touching his face. So instead, I appreciate him from afar.
“I had a good time tonight,” I say.
His mouth twitches, but the smile never comes. “Really? Thought I’d put you off for life.”
I shake my head. “You could never put me off.”
My eyes widen as I want to open the door and bury myself under my bed sheets. Why did I have to go and say a corny thing like that?
But then Eli does the unexpected. He takes my chin in his hand, and I’m spellbound by how close he is.
Our eyes lock and my heart rings in my ears.
This is it. My first kiss.
Yeah, I’ve never been kissed. No surprises.
Eli lowers his lips to mine, and for some stupid reason, I decide to break the space between us, moving my head forward as I go crashing into his nose.
Blood spills from his nostrils, and I cringe, wanting to die right there on Bab’s doorstep.
So much for my first kiss.
6. Eli
Fuck. The little bitch head-butted me right in the nose!
No one ever makes me bleed. Those who do pay for it dearly.
My head rings in pain, yet I can still hear Misaki cackling in the background.
I grind my teeth. “Shut up!”
“I... I can’t stop. This shit’s comedy gold!”
“That’s it. I’m shutting you out.”
“No... wait... Eli!”
I close the channel connecting us then scowl down at Crystal, one hand pressed against my leaking nose.
Her stupid big eyes shimmer beneath the garish light of a lamp post, and I soften my gaze.
Of course, it was an accident, but my blood still boils. Was this what I get for showing some fucking affection?
Maybe it’s for the best. Kissing White’s daughter wasn’t the best idea, but if I wanted to make this work, I needed to play the part.
Make her think that I’m actually into her.
She steps forward, reaching her hand out
. “Eli... I’m...”
I turn away, rushing down the steps towards my car. “It’s best I leave.”
Her breath picks up, and then she rushes down behind me. “No, please, stay. Let me clean you up.”
I look back. Her eyes are almost swimming with tears now, and I’m glued to the spot.
They’re as bottomless as the ocean.
She moves closer, taking my arm. “Come inside. I’ll clean your nose up, then you can go.”
I stare up at the terrace house. It’s a dump and needs a serious paint job, but I suppose half an hour wouldn’t hurt.
“All right,” I agree, my voice still a little frosty.
Crystal notices my sharp tone then dips her head, towing me along. She gets her keys out of her bag and opens the door, and I step inside the tiny hall.
Bright purple wallpaper screams at me from every wall, and my first instinct is to run back to the car and get Marcus to drive me home. But I stay put, intrigued.
So, this was how normal people lived?
There’s a coat rack, and a mound of shoes by the door. If I weren’t careful, I’d trip and smash my nose again. A mirror shows my bloodied face, and I almost do a double take. I can’t believe a tiny, insignificant girl put me in such a state.
My attention is drawn to a row of family photographs. A younger version of the café owner is in several, and she wasn’t half bad on the eye. She’s holding a smiling, laughing baby, and the father is present in every single one.
I don’t even own one photograph of me and my father. Unless you count the huge painting that hangs above the fireplace in the Black Mansion, but even then my mother was present.
My eyes land on the baby again, giggling up at his mother, and I close my eyes.
It’s hard to believe it’s been twenty one years since I last saw her. No thanks to this bastard’s father standing right beside me.
I glare Crystal’s way, eager to put an end to her there and then, and make White feel all the pain I did that day.
Yet she doesn’t notice my scowl and kicks a few shoes aside, leading me into the small living room. It’s cramped as my eyes land on a dirty ashtray, and suddenly my brain craves nicotine. Misaki warned me not to smoke in front of little Miss Perfect in case I scare her away.