Tall, Dark and Handsome

Chapter 8

The familiar softness of the cushion welcomed me pleasantly as I slid into my seat. Shutting my door, he walked over to the opposite and slid in with more grace than I could ever do myself. I looked shyly from the clutch in my hands—noticing my knuckles had turned white—to his hooded gaze. His long index finger found its place on his thin lower lip, running across it before stopping when he caught me staring. A simple grunt from his lips seemed to be enough of a signal for John to drive onto the street, dodging parked cars alongside the road.

 Night had fallen in London.

The faint glow from streetlamps provided the only light inside the car. I noticed my back was as straight as the times I was in office, working diligently on files and scheduling appointments and my whole body was faced towards my window. Tom must have noticed the distance between our bodies because he soon readjusted his wiry long legs so that one invaded more of my personal space. He splayed his palm on the empty space between us, reminding me this was his car and he was in control. My eyes flickered to his hand than up along his arm to meet his eyes. I felt my breath caught in my lungs when he tucked a curl behind my ear, melting against his caress when he cupped my cheek.

"I've been waiting for a long time." Tom said, a gentle reminder to me he had gone out of his way to ask me out on a date like so. The energy between us sizzled further when the engine to his very expensive and luxurious car purred to a stop in front of a brightly lit restaurant. He shut his eyes tightly, as if he almost regretted for the short amount of time spent inside the car. Letting out a soft breath, he pushed the door open and stepped out with a palm reached out for me to hold onto as I exited. I felt my cheeks flush warmly at the feeling of his warm palm in mine, deepening into a different shade when he dropped my hand only to keep it protectively on the small of my back. "In time..." He murmured against my ear as we began walking our skilful walk towards the doors of the restaurant.

If I had been flabbergasted by the expanse of his office to his luxurious lifestyle of fast cars worth more than I'll ever earn in a lifetime, this restaurant was completely beyond words. The rich aroma of fresh tomatoes, cheese and yeast from in house baked rolls filled my senses as soon as I stepped in. A man with a moustache that curled in the ends led us our way towards our seat at the back of the restaurant where it seemed to have the most amount of privacy while still conserving the same comfortable experience as the rest of the seats. The dark lighting only complemented to the cozy romantic atmosphere.

"Thank you." I giggled nervously when Tom pulled out my seat for me. Sitting on the edge of the wooden chair, I inched closer towards the table, eyes trained on the stunningly handsome man sitting before me. He must have not noticed because his attention was drawn to the wine menu in his hands. A look of indifference and boredom on his face, he raised two fingers up in the air, beckoning a waiter passing by. I feigned to keep the hurt I felt inside me when he didn't respond back with as much warmness and attention as before.

"We'll take the Marguax 2011, please." Tom asked in bored tone, not bothering to even look at the waiter when he asked. Taking a quick glance at the price on the menu, I had to stifle a gasp from the outrageous pricing of one glass of the fine red wine.

"Very good choice, Mousier." The waiter smiled, bowed and swiftly turned around to grab our drinks.

I nearly dropped my menu onto the floor when Tom spoke, bringing me out of my moment of daze from the prices.

"The fish is fresh." He commented, flipping over a page. His eyes skimmed through the few lines, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Right. Fish." I repeated dumbly, looking over at the next table where a posh woman with what seemed to be a real fur scarf wrapped around her neck was eating a juicy piece of steak. The diamonds glittering on her fingers nearly blinded me when she waved her hands for emphasis to whatever she was saying. Clearly, this was not a restaurant for everyone. In that moment, I felt the particular sensation of me being watched. Pulling my eyes away from the big sparkly diamonds on the woman's hand, I noticed a few pairs of eyes from a few men dressed similarly to Tom looking my way. Gulping, I looked down at my dress, wondering what exactly they were staring at. Was there something on my face? Could they see right through this façade that I didn't belong here?