That's How it Happens

14. Dinner with Strings Attached

"You've been quiet, Annie," Peter said, his voice low, almost amused. "But I guess you always were, weren't you? That hasn't changed much. A lot else has."

She caught the movement from her periphery – his napkin dropped onto the plate, his posture shifting as he leaned back, chin resting against his fist. He was watching her. Not with judgment. Not exactly. More like he was trying to figure her out.

Assessing.

It wasn't the look she feared, but it was close enough to trigger the reflex. That old, familiar unease. The one that whispered she was too sharp, too quiet, too much of something no one could name. Back home, people had stared at her like she might burst into flames if provoked. Like she wasn't quite a Drake, and they couldn't figure out where she'd come from.

She'd grown used to it – Liv was the pretty one, the social one, the one people understood. Ainsley had always been the question mark. But tonight, under Peter's gaze, it unsettled her again.

Dinner had been fine. Better than expected, actually. Peter wasn't Leo – she reminded herself of that more than once – but he was polite, thoughtful, and the steakhouse he'd chosen had a view that made her forget herself for a moment. The city lights stretched out like possibility. And for a brief second, she let herself wonder.

What if this had been their life?

What if they'd moved her together, away from the family noise and expectations?

Would it be this – quiet dinners, small talk, upscale restaurants, and no emotional landmines?

It was tempting. But then she wouldn't have met Leo. And that thought led to a feeling she couldn't quite name – a look she couldn't quite recall, but it lived somewhere behind her ribs.

The date had been planned strategically. Peter had insisted on picking her up – ever the gentleman. She'd rushed downstairs, hoping to avoid a scene. Hoping he wouldn't get out of the car.

He did.

And so did Leo.

And Aunt Kate. And Liv.

She'd thought she'd been careful.

She hadn't spoken to Leo since leaving her mother's. Just sent a text asking if he'd keep Liv and Aunt Kate busy for the night. No explanation. Not even a comment about the weather. Just a favor. Her tone had been clipped, yet her actions were defensive. Definitely not honest. Some might call that icy.

And then he saw her – with Peter. Laughing. Rushing. Avoiding.

Leo's expression when he saw her had been devastating. Not angry. Not cold. Just... disappointed. And somehow, that was worse.

Even the memory made her wince.

Why was she hiding like some kind of cheating hussy? It wasn't even a real date. It was... for charity. Never mind the curiosity that was attached.

And yet she'd acted like she was sneaking out of a motel with her blouse half-buttoned.

And then, as always, Leo had smoothed it over. Smiled. Stood up for her. Walked off with Liv and Aunt Kate like nothing had happened – like she wasn't sneaking around. Their arms wrapped around each other like a beautiful threesome. And when he looked back – just once – with that expression, disappointment laced with something quieter, it nearly knocked the breath out of her.

She looked at Peter, suddenly aware of the weight in her chest, and offered a quiet, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry," Ainsley said, spinning the lie like silk and immediately regretting it. "This is supposed to be a date, and my mind's on work."