Zane looks at me with eyebrows raised in question. I give a nod. “I’ll have a sixteen-ounce ribeye, grilled broccoli, and wild rice,” he says.
“I’ll have the Cajun snapper, please,” I say.
Zane’s lips twitch slightly, and I wonder what was funny.
“And wine, sir?” Zane motions for the waiter to come down to his level and whispers something in his ear making my gut clench. I know he’s ordering a stupidly expensive bottle of something.
When the waiter leaves, Zane turns to me with a full grin. “Darlin’, you know that snapper isn’t really Cajun don’t ya?”
I blink. Then blink again.That’s what’s funny to him? Not the ridiculously expensive bottle of wine he just ordered because I know he ordered it.
“Zane, do you think you can buy me?” I hiss at him.
His eyes narrow. His grin falls. His jaw clenches. He leans across the table.
But I cross my arms across my chest and sit up straight in my chair. I’m not backing down. I cannot be bought.
“What the fuck makes you think I would ever try to buy anyone?” he growls. “I don’t need to flash money or anything else to get someone’s attention, and if I did then they wouldn’t be anywhere near me. You think I don’t know what the fuck a gold digger looks like? I’ve been chased by them for years, sweetheart.”
Damn. I insulted him. Like really, really insulted him. It wasn’t intentional but I remember the bottle of wine last time he took me out and the amazing dress he bought for me at New Year’s. I didn’t really think he was trying to buy me, per se, but it did cross my mind that he was using money to impress me.
But even as I say and think all of that, I know it's bullshit. Especially after the realization I'd come to only moments ago. It's just another excuse I'm looking for to keep distance between us. Another bridge to cross and wall to tear down. I'm looking for flaws that aren't there. I'm looking for anything to keep from getting drawn into him.
“Zane, I’m so -.”
“You have a fucking habit of doing that, you know?” he cuts me off. “You assume because I have money that I’m using it to buy my way with people. Darlin’, I’ve never had to buy my way with anyone. I spend money I have because I want to. Plain and simple.”
“You ordered another bottle of wine and I just thought -.”
“Stop insulting me by assuming I need to pay for pussy and stop insulting yourself by thinking someone would feel like they need to buy you. I ordered a fucking bottle of champagne because I remembered you like it. It’s expensive because I can afford it.”
“I just -.”
“Tori, you might want to stop while you’re ahead. You’re making yourself look bad not me.”
I jerk my head back in shock and clamp my mouth shut. I want to be angry, but how can I be? He’s absolutely right. I am saying these things to him to stay on the offense with the intentions of offending. Because if he's offended then maybe he will move on to another girl. I'm making assumptions that I know deep down I don't mean or believe to keep him at arm's length. He’s being nice and generous while I cheapen his actions and make myself seem like I’m not worth it. I’m stereotyping him. I hate that I am doing it because that’s not me.
The waiter brings over the champagne in a bucket of ice, opening it for us then pouring my glass while handing Zane his beer. I close my eyes and take a sip when he walks away. I can’t stop myself from groaning at the crisp explosion of flavor on my tongue and the bubbles tickle my nose. It’s like an orgasmic experience for my mouth.
I open my eyes to see Zane leaning back in his chair so damn casually it’s a bit annoying with a big grin on his face. It’s a knowing grin. One that says he knew this would be my reaction to the champagne.
“You like it?” he asks as he turns up his beer.
“It’s okay,” I shrug like my tastebuds didn’t just orgasm.
He laughs loudly, not caring in the slightest that this isn’t the kind of place that you should be loud in. “Darlin’ if that was just okay, I’m going to fucking love hearing you moan when you think something is amazing.”
I keep my face stony and ambivalent, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of my admission that he read me spot on. Or acknowledge the innuendo there.
Staying on the offense.
I look out the window overlooking the city. I love New York, but once in a while I just want to be somewhere not so busy or hustling. I want to slow down and enjoy the day without the noise and the smog. But views like this make me appreciate where I live. Nowhere else in the world can you find art and fashion and music like you can here. The skyline itself is a work of art. Just one not seen from my third-floor apartment.
In this moment, I realize just how busy I’ve been with the shop since Dane left. I had no idea he was going to leave me in charge of everything, and I didn’t realize everything he did to make sure the shop ran smoothly. I definitely never thought it was so much freaking paperwork.
“Where’d you go, Darlin’?” he drawls across from me.
“Hmm?” I turn to him to see his mesmerizing dark eyes studying me intently.
