Claiming of Fifty shades

Dinner

The restaurant was situated on the outskirts of the city. To fight the thrust of Seattle's frigid weather, I tightly clutched my warm coat by its lapels. I straightened as Christian's hands lingered upon my spine, trying not to cast my eyes down while attempting to walk in a straight line, trip over my heels and embarrass us both.

"After you." Christian gently placed his palm on the small of my back and together we walked into the restaurant. The manager welcomed us with delightful hospitality. Though upon a closer look, I detected the nervous fidgets he was secretly suffering from. He showed us to a reserved table that was situated in a private corner. Feeling kinship to him, I offered my thanks.

As I noticed that Christian's attention was no longer on me, disconcerted by everything, my gaze wandered as I willed myself not to feel intimidated by the opulent surroundings and haughty looking folks. I swallowed and self-consciously swept my hair behind the shell of my ear, assuring myself that it was just a dinner. I needed to keep my countenance together this evening.

I was wearing my lucky stilettos again, I assured myself. Nothing could go wrong when I wore them.

After we were seated and Christian with a confidence worthy of applause asked for the menus, we were left to our own devices. There wasn't a humble bone in his body.

I studied him as he looked over the menu. I wanted to figure this man out.

Oh no, I wasn't some lamb who'd sacrifice her life in order to fix a man. He appeared pretty intent on his ways. Sometimes he treated me like I was some impudent child who needed to be chided. I was presented with the rare opportunity of meeting him more than once—privately. Hell yeah, I wanted to figure him out. If for nothing else than for the peace of my mind.

"What would you like to eat?"

Intimidated by the insanely high prices written on the menu card, I mumbled, "Whatever you're having."

"Good girl." He smiled, "I was hoping you'd say that. Any wine preferences."

"I recently turned twenty one. Frankly I know nothing about wines. It's all on you."

"Are you saying I'm corrupting you Miss Steele?"

"I'm implying exactly that Mr. Grey." I gave him a cheeky smile.

He ordered bread sticks, salad and some fancy wine.

Noticing the uncommon protocol that he was receiving, I had to ask, "Do you own this place?"

"No," Amidst skimming the menu, he imparted a momentarily yet amused glance over me, "I don't. Though visiting this place occasionally is almost a treat."

"How come?"

"This place is fairly out of the way of GEH. So I rarely get the chance to experience their food."

"Oh. A man like you, I thought could summon everything with a snap of his fingers."

One side of his mouth curled up, "You would like to believe that, wouldn't you? But despite what you believe, I'm a very practical man Miss Steele. Having said that, I prefer my food delicious and healthy. I have the pleasure of hiring an excellent cook at my place. I take my lunch out at the weekdays. Any place near my office. My dinner and breakfast is always at my apartment when I'm in Seattle. I usually eat here alone if I've an hour to spare followed by the lunchtime. And you're the first person that I'm sharing this place with. See. I'm not that different from everyone else in your life."

I'd beg to differ.

I looked at him skeptically, "You mean you've brought no other business acquaintances here?"