A Gentleman’s Offer

by Dara Girard

  “I’m hanging up now. Why are you calling?”

  “I wanted to make sure you’re following through with the plan.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to see you happy.”

  Yvette tapped the phone. It wasn’t like Lewis to show this much interest in her life. Then again her life had taken an interesting turn. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to be part of it. “I’m seeing him tomorrow. He just called me to confirm, you know, like a six-month dentist appointment. There’s nothing more.”

  “Sure,” Lewis said, but didn’t sound convinced.

  The next day brought blue skies and warm weather. Yvette pulled out the gray dress and winced. She fell backwards on the bed. I’m going to hate this. She sat up and held up the dress. It was just one day. She could suffer through one day. She grumbled as she pulled on the dress, cursed as she pulled her hair up and moaned as she put on her second pair of stockings. Immediately her mood changed. The silk feel of the stockings felt like a second skin, and the seam down the back added instant sex appeal to her most important attribute, after her face. Yvette slipped on a pair of cream-colored suede high heels then looked in the mirror.

  She had expected to see a conservative bore staring back at her, but instead she saw a refined sophisticated woman. The dress wasn’t as simple as she’d thought. It was an A-line dress, which complimented her figure. Although she had a slender build she was curvy in some areas, and the style worked. She was surprised to discover that the particular shade of gray brought out the softness of her sensuous skin. She would never have selected the color or style, yet it was perfect. The first pair of stockings she wore felt like a dream, this one was heavenly. Perhaps Rania was right. She winked at James, who lay on the bed.

  “Eat your heart out.”

  He wagged his tail.

  Yvette arrived a few minutes late and saw Nate standing outside the restaurant under the awning. She smiled as she approached, then saw his face, and her smile disappeared.

  Chapter 6

  He was a drinker. There was no other explanation for it. She knew all the signs: The red eyes that fought to stay open. The unshaven face. They entered the restaurant and he held the door open for her, but didn’t say anything beyond a casual “hello” before speaking to the host. When they were seated he didn’t compliment her dress or talk about the weather. He just sat and stared at the menu. This wasn’t the same man she’d spent nearly an hour talking to on the phone. He’d become a stranger again.

  Yvette unfolded her napkin neatly on her lap, remembering all of Rania’s advice. But it didn’t matter. She should have known it was all too good to be true. What sensible man would come up with a scheme like this? What other vices did he have? He had probably been with a woman last night. They’d likely been at some high-society function, had too much to drink, ended up in bed together, and he’d just woken up remembering he had a late lunch date with her.

  At least the restaurant made up for her sullen companion. A violist played softly as waiters rushed past carrying dishes that looked more artistic than fulfilling. One plate consisted of three large scallops wrapped in clover; another displayed five jumbo shrimps mounted on scalloped garlic potatoes wrapped in seaweed. She heard the tinkle of fine china and the hushed sounds of intelligent conversation. Or at least she imagined it to be intelligent, she didn’t expect any “late child payment” arguments here. At last she was in a place where she longed to be.

  “Would you like me to order for you or suggest something?”

  Yvette stared at Nate, surprised. His voice hadn’t changed. She’d expected it to be hoarse or perhaps soft. Didn’t drinkers usually have headaches the next day? Her father had. “Excuse me?”

  He continued to stare at the menu. “Would you like me to place your order or suggest something?”

  “How can you suggest something when you don’t know what I like to eat?”

  “I’m trying to offer a subtle hint for you to tell me.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. For someone with a hangover he was incredibly sharp, but she still wouldn’t trust him to order for her. “I’m sure I can find something on my own.”

  Yvette glanced back at the menu. She made an effort not to wince at the prices. She selected the cheapest item on the menu, then snapped it closed. “I know what I’m going to have.”

  “What?”

  “Grilled jumbo shrimp and scallops in a red wine sauce.”

  He furrowed his brows, confused, as he read the description. “That’s just an appetizer.”

  “I know.”

  He glanced up at her with an accusatory look. “I hope you’re not on a diet.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Do you have a strange aversion to people seeing you eat?”

  “No.”

  He returned his gaze to the menu. “Then order something sensible.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “That appetizer is about the size of my pinkie. So unless your stomach is the size of a pea, I suggest you order something else.”

  Yvette squirmed uneasily in her chair, finding it annoying that she had to argue with a man who didn’t even look at her. “I wish you wouldn’t make a big deal out of this.”

  “Either you order something or I’ll order for you.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t afford it,” she said in a loud whisper.

  People from two tables away glanced at her. She placed her napkin on the table, ready to leave. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

  He covered her hand with his. It was large and unexpectedly soft and had the surprising effect of forcing her to stay and calming her at the same time. “I’m paying,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear.” He removed his hand and for a moment she was sorry he had.

  Yvette sat still. A man with a hangover shouldn’t be able to look so sexy. The quiet voice, the stubble on his chin and his half-open eyes, instead of making him look like a tramp, gave him a rough, dangerous look that only made him more attractive. She found herself relaxing and stared at his hand, which now rested on the table. “I wasn’t sure.”

  Again his gaze fell to the menu. She never knew someone could find a menu so interesting. “I always pay,” he said. “Next time just ask.”

  She again spread her napkin on her lap. “I thought since this was sort of like a business meeting…”

  “Do you think I’d take you to an expensive restaurant and have you split the bill?”

  She shrugged. “It’s happened before.”

  Nate glanced up from his menu, intrigued. “Really?”

  “Yes. His name was…” She shook her head. “Well, it doesn’t matter what his name was. He asked me out and took me to this wonderful restaurant and ordered half the items on the menu, then said we should split the bill.”

  “You didn’t, of course.”

  “I was young at the time.”

  “How much was it?”

  “Fifty dollars.”

  “That’s not much.”

  “It was to me. Twenty-five dollars for dinner?”

  “Hmm…well, I won’t be doing that. I’m here to please.”

  Yvette clapped her hands together in delight. “Good. That changes everything.”

  When the waiter came to the table and requested their orders, Yvette said, “I would like the orange chicken without the oregano, and the asparagus in a light olive oil instead of butter, and can you please make sure that my potato is baked, not mashed. And I would also like a seat on the veranda.”

  The waiter sent Nate a glance for confirmation. Yvette caught the look and frowned. “You don’t need to ask his permission. If you can’t fulfill my request then I don’t need to be here.” She removed her napkin and laid it on the table.

  “No,” the waiter said quickly. “I won’t be a moment.”

  He began to turn.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  He looked
at her, unsure. “I don’t know.”

  She nodded at Nate. “My friend hasn’t ordered yet.”

  “Oh, yes. What would you like, sir?”

  Nate flashed Yvette a look of amusement. “The same thing she’s having.”

  Moments later they sat outside under a bamboo umbrella with the afternoon sun cascading around them. Yvette sighed and stared up at the sky.

  “You give orders very well,” Nate said.

  “Thank you. When you work with animals you realize the importance of being firm. They respect people who are in charge.” She winked at him. “Plus I wanted to try out my new role.”

  “I bet you’ll enjoy ordering me around. You’ve started off with the right attitude.”

  Yes, she’d definitely love to order him around. She would begin with having him remove his shirt, then his trousers, then his… She adjusted her position. What were they talking about again? Oh, yes, attitude. “Is that said with approval or censure?”

  “What would you like it to be?”

  “Approval.” She waved her finger. “And I know what you’re going to say. That the rich don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

  Nate stretched out his leg and it brushed hers. She didn’t move, neither did he. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that it was no big deal.

  “You’re wrong. People don’t care only if they’re heartless. The rich have feelings like other people.” He smiled. “I hope you don’t find that too shocking.”

  The smile should have softened his face, but it only drew more attention to his unkempt appearance. She set her drink down in a slow, careful motion. “About our agreement.”

  He looked at her with a steady gaze. “Yes?” His leg brushed hers again, sending an electric current through her. This time she knew it wasn’t an accident. That only made it more distracting.

  “I think you’re a really nice guy, but—”

  Nate sat back and held up his hands. “Wait a minute. That sentence sounds too familiar. Are you breaking up with me? Did we start dating and I forgot?”

  “It’s not a break-up speech. It’s more of a reconsideration.”

  He leaned forward and gave her his full attention. “You don’t want to move forward with the plan?”

  She tried to move her leg away, but somehow it only brought them closer. “I don’t think this is going to work.” She clumsily adjusted her knife and fork.

  “Why not?”

  She squirmed in her seat. “I thought you said you don’t like to party.”

  “I don’t.” His shoe touched her ankle. She set down her utensils. “Stop that!”

  “Stop what?”

  “What you’re doing under the table.”

  Nate feigned innocence. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Then keep still!”

  He rested his chin in his hands and watched her, amused. “Okay. What were you saying?”

  “We were talking about your partying.”

  “I don’t party.”

  “Then why were you up late last night?”

  He froze. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your eyes are red and you’re not completely shaven.”

  Nate sat up and rubbed his chin. “Sorry about that. I’ll take better care next time.”

  “It’s almost four o’clock. I can’t have a valet who drinks!”

  He lowered his gaze, pulled his leg back and returned to his meal. “I never drink to excess.”

  “Only sometimes?” she challenged. Her father had been in denial, too.

  “I never drink to excess,” he repeated softly.

  “Then why—”

  He spoke softly, slowly. “As I said, it won’t happen again and you can take me at my word.” Before she could reply he said, “Now let’s get to business.”

  “Is it allergies?”

  “No. Now I think—”

  “A cold?”

  “No, now, Yvette—”

  “It’s not only your eyes. Your skin is pale as though you’ve stayed indoors for days. I didn’t notice that before. I hope you don’t do drugs.”

  “No,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t do drugs.”

  “Then why—”

  “Yvette,” Nate said with growing impatience. “I said let’s get down to business.”

  “This is business! If we’re going to work together I need to know all your vices.”

  “I don’t have any vices. I don’t drink. I don’t party late. I don’t do drugs and I don’t have allergies.”

  “Then why are your eyes red?”

  “Because I couldn’t sleep last night,” he snapped.

  Yvette lowered her voice. “You suffer from insomnia?”

  He returned to his lunch.

  Yvette stared at him in disbelief. “Nate, I asked you a question. Didn’t you hear me?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And you’re not going to respond?”

  “No.”

  “That’s very rude.”

  “Yes. I can be very rude and stubborn and come up with stupid ideas. This being one of them.” He set his fork down and looked at her. “You’re right. This won’t work. We’re completely incompatible. So enjoy your lunch and this will be the end of it.” He lifted his fork again and resumed eating his meal.

  “Fine.” But it wasn’t fine. She didn’t care that she’d changed her mind, but it felt different that he had. It wasn’t a stupid idea. Now that he’d taken away a dream opportunity from her she wanted it even more. This was her chance to be rich. She didn’t care if he drank, as long as it was in private. He was upset, but she was even more upset. He may be used to shutting people out, but he wouldn’t shut her out. “Nate, it’s not as though I’m trying to delve deep into your personal life. I bet you don’t even do anything for fun except find unsuspecting strangers and build their hopes up before snatching it away from them. Does that make you happy?” She paused. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “I don’t interrupt monologues.” He sent her a sly glance. “Plus I’m not easily provoked.”

  Yvette took a deep breath, resisting the urge to smash her plate over his head, but she doubted that would ruffle his eerie self-control. She counted to three. Breathe. She would have to learn to deal with him. She’d dealt with finicky dogs, fearful dogs and spoiled dogs. She could handle any man. Threats wouldn’t work, certainly not shouting, and probably not tears. That’s when a realization struck her and his appearance made perfect sense. She felt ashamed that she’d misjudged him. “Oh.”

  “Oh what?”

  “Now I understand.”

  “You understand what?”

  “Why you don’t want to tell me the truth. I think I already know what it is and for a man like you that would be embarrassing to reveal.” She nodded, pleased with her conclusion, and continued her lunch.

  Nate set his fork down and laced his fingers together. “Okay, tell me.”

  “No.”

  “If you tell me, I’ll let you know if you’re right or wrong.”

  “You’ll probably lie.”

  “I won’t lie.”

  “If I tell you, will you tell me the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” Yvette sat back and folded her arms. “I believe you’re running away from something. You’re on vacation, but you don’t look relaxed. Whatever you’re trying to get away from has followed you here. You suffered a major blow. Perhaps a heartbreak and last night you were crying.”

  Nate’s hands fell to the table, rattling the dishes. “I was what?”

  “Crying. That’s why your eyes are so red.”

  “I wasn’t crying. I’ve never cried over a woman in my life.”

  Yvette shrugged. “I knew you would deny it.” She continued eating.

  “I’m not denying anything.”

  “Then why are your eyes red?”

  Nate covered his eyes and groaned. “My God you’re a stubborn woman.”

&nb
sp; “Yes. Will you answer my question?”

  “Do I have a choice?” he said, his tone resigned but filled with amusement.

  “Well?”

  He shook his head and leaned back. “And impatient.”

  “Nate.”

  “The last few days have been difficult.” He released a weary sigh. “I have nightmares.”

  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Nightmares are for children.”

  “Plenty of adults have nightmares.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What are they about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Yes, and that’s all I’m going to tell you.” He signaled the waiter. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Once Nate closed a topic there was no chance to reopen it. Yvette tried, but he cleverly redirected her and after a few unsuccessful attempts she stopped. They walked several blocks and Yvette had the chance to enjoy a part of town she’d never been to before. When Nate stopped in front of a window, he swore. “Is this how I look? Hell, no wonder—”

  “Now that you’ve explained it, it’s all right.”

  “You’re very understanding. Kim would have…” He shook his head, ashamed. “I’m sorry. You won’t see me like this again.”

  Yvette wondered who Kim was, what she meant to him and if she was the cause of his sleepless nights. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry she’d thought the worst of him and that she was grateful for this opportunity, but instead she focused on the activities down the street. She saw a woman who looked familiar in the distance. When she noticed the hat she was certain it was Margaret. “Wait, I know that woman.” She pushed through the crowd. “Excuse me,” she called as she drew closer to the woman.

  The woman turned, saw her, then started to run.

  “I don’t believe this.” Yvette took off her heels and chased after her, darting through the crush of people. At last she reached her and spun her around. It wasn’t Margaret.

  Yvette stepped back, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  “Then no wonder she’s hiding from you,” the woman said as she caught herself from falling over.

  “I really am sorry,” Yvette said, but the woman hurried away. She covered her face. “Damn.” She looked down at her stockings and grimaced. They were torn with a hole over the right big toe.