“No, but you get to see how big the world is when you're in the middle of the city.” His dimples pop, giving him a Hollywood-royaltyedge.
To my right are several marble-top tables with wicker chairs. We walk to one set with a stainless-steel wine bucket complete with a bottle of champagne. There's a placeholder with Elijah's name written incalligraphy.
“Just so you know,” I say as I take a seat. “I'm still notimpressed.”
“So I have some work todo?”
“Afraidso.”
Elijah offers a closed-lip smile while grabbing the champagne from the bucket. “I do hope I can deliver.” He pops thecork.
I would imagine the level of refinement laced with filth he possesses would be an attribute that would take years to master. But I’m almost certain he’s younger than Iam.
I drum my fingernails over the tabletop, debating on asking his age while he pours our drinks. “You get escorted into swanky rooftop bars with velvet ropes. The employees at a high-end gentlemen's club know you by name. You have a driver for your Tesla. Is the mob still a thing in New York?” I quirk mylips.
He cocks a brow and passes me the flute, strands of bubbles delicately floating to the surface. “If you truly think I may be a criminal, your survival instincts must not be as good as youclaim.”
I chuckle, and he grins, nodding towardme.
“Your laugh is what caught my attention the night I met you. I'd just left a business dinner and was on my way to my room when I heard you. It was so carefree.” He takes a sip. “And to me, there's nothing more attractive than a beautifully innocent woman with an infectiouslaugh.”
My cheeks heat. I hate his ability to make me feel like a swooning teenager. My hormones are too mature for thiscrap.
“Um, thanks…” I nod. “Thank you.” And then, because I need to stop my mouth before anything dumb slips out, I take a big swig of champagne. The bubbles tickle my nose as panic slowly sets in. This is why I hate dating. My stupid responses to compliments. The stress of conversation. The awkwardpauses.
It's too quiet. I glance around. People trickle onto the rooftop. Everyone is dressed exceptionally well and carries themselves as though they're walking the red carpet. I catch sight of a striking blonde, her hips swishing side to side as sheapproaches.
“It's been a long time, James,” she says, holding out her hand toElijah.
James? This guy gave me a fake name. Oh, the irony. Elijah—or James—takes her hand, his eyes locked on me as he kisses herknuckles.
Then he leans back and crosses an ankle over his knee. “How isNathan?”
“Oh, he's fine…” She touches the bare skin between her breasts; the diamond bracelets dripping from her wrist catch in the light. Her blue eyes are trained on Elijah like nothing else in the world exist. “How much longer until you move?” sheasks.
AndMr. Fake Name is moving. I wonder where, and then tell myself I shouldn't care and not to bring itup.
“Amonth.”
“We'll miss having you over.” Her words hang in the air long after she's spoken. Elijah's jaw subtly tics before his gaze drifts tome.
“Demi,” he says. “This is Meredith.” My glass is halfway to my lips when Elijah reaches across the table and laces his fingers between mine. “Meredith, this is Demi. The woman I plan to fucktonight.”
I nearly choke onchampagne.
There's a wild flicker in his eyes when he arches a single brow atMeredith.
I'm partially offended, tempted to slap him and leave. But, there's a part of me that's intrigued by his audacity—honesty, whatever you want to call it. And then, much to my horror, I find the jealousy pouring off Meredith intoxicating. After all, she'smarried.
“Well, enjoy your evening, Demi,” she says before strutting off with her nose in theair.
Smiling, he glances at me. “I hope that didn't offendyou.”
“I'm trying to decide whether to slap you or not,” I say with alilt.
“It's the truth, though. I plan to fuckyou.”
A slight tremble works its way through my core. “I'm not fuckingyou.”
He grins, dimples and all, as he leans across the table, bringing his palm to my cheek. His thumb strokes my jawline while my mind whirls. “Stop trying to anticipate what will happen,” he whispers. “I assure you, you'll never know what to expect fromme.”
“I can see that,James…” I laugh and open my mouth to confess my sins when he holds up afinger.
“Only certain people know my first name. So now that you know my first and middle name, what's your middle name,Demi?”
“Elizabeth.” And that's not alie.
“How fitting. DemiElizabeth…”
“Williams. Demi ElizabethWilliams.”
