It’s going to be so easy, so simple.
And then Sacha walks into the restaurant and I know for sure that I’m going to fuck everything up. Every head in the room turns to watch him stoop through the door. He's still wearing a suit. It’s dark blue with white pinstripes and a little yellow pocket square in the jacket pocket.
He looks really good. Like, really, really good.
I wave before leaping to my feet. Sacha’s eyes meet mine, and his face breaks into a wide, wonderful grin. His hand brushes my arm as he leans down to press a kiss to my cheek. My face heats at the light touch.
“You look beautiful.” His gaze sweeps me up and down. “It’s a nice outfit.”
“Thank you,” I wince.
Right, yes. The outfit.
It’s an a-line royal blue skirt and a baby blue v-neck shirt. When I twirl you can almostmaybesee my underwear. It’s cute, it’s flirty, it’s got cleavage.
Margot insisted on helping me pick out what to wear. We spent almost two hours putting together the perfect outfit, one that looks like I put it together in two seconds. Now, my bed is littered with every article of clothing I own, which is fine, because I will not be taking my hot boss back to it tonight.
Letting Margot put it together was her reward for being my completely unofficial, and slightly illegal counsel, Margot reviewed Sacha’s contract for me, but she could barely stop laughing at the proposal. She said it would never hold up in court, but Cryptech would probably honor it just to avoid the scandal of going to court. I have a copy of the agreement in my email, with a timestamp and everything. I might not get a half million dollars, but I would almost certainly get a payout if Sacha tries to back out of the agreement.
“You look really good too,” I blurt out.
He glances down at his outfit.
“You always look really good. You are probably tired of hearing people say it,” I add quickly.
“I don’t get tired of anything you say.”
“Corny.” I poke him in the chest with one finger, flush a little at the contact with his hard chest, and decide to barrel the conversation forward. “But, it’s obvious you put a lot of effort into your appearance.”
“When people perceive you a certain way, an outfit is important. Clothes can make a man out of a monster.”
“I think I understand that,” I admit. Nothing conveys ‘I don’t care about your opinions on my weight’, like bright colors that make you stand out in a crowd. “It’s about not hiding the things society calls your flaws, and feeling comfortable in your own skin.”
“You are perfect in your skin.” He steps a little closer, not quite touching me, but I still feel warmth in my stomach.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, scooting into my seat. “I’m absolutely starving.”
He settles into the chair across from me, his large body somewhat dwarfing the human-sized chair. “This is your favorite restaurant?”
“Yeah, I—How did you know?”
He picks up the menu, pretending to be engrossed in the list of sashimi. “I think I heard you mention it once.” His eyes dart up to sheepishly meet mine. “When you were making a date with the IT guy.”
“Right, Chris.” I lick my tongue over my bottom lip, suddenly feeling nervous.
“Was that the date I found you leaving early?” He stares pointedly at the menu. “The night I gave you a ride?”
“It didn’t go well.” I don’t miss the self-satisfied grin that glances across Sacha’s face. “In fact, it was a fucking disaster.”
He outright smiles at that. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m sorry your dinner was bad that night, but I’m glad you're here with me instead.”
I can’t help but return his smile.
“How are the kittens?” he asks, and my heart squeezes that he cares enough to ask.
“Fantastic! We have a couple more weeks with them before they can be fixed, they all have forever homes lined up.”
“Good.” He smiles, and for a moment if feels like his eyes might bore through me. “And the mama cat?”
