He's a Prince. She's a journalist.
They have a complicated relationship. More like he's into her but she hates his guts.
He needs to behave. She needs to let loose.
He's interested in her because she's the last girl interested in him.
Both of them n...
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"Are you taking me to one of those fancy places you like?" I ask as Mark grabs my hand and guides me through a narrow back-alley. "Although, this doesn't look too fancy," I murmur to myself as he stops in front of a gray door. There's a keypad next to it and Mark is smiling as he takes out his phone and I turn towards the busy city lights behind us. They're blurring since the city never stops, especially at King's Cross.
"It's not posh, really. Just sort of secret," he says as he's about to touch the numbers on the keypad when he stops. "You don't mind, do you?" his gaze turns to me and all his usual confidence seems to evaporate for a second.
"No, it's okay." I can't help but swoon at the fact that I seem to have that effect on him. The moment that thought flashes through mind, I feel as if my stomach sinks. It's been days since I had that chat with my ex, but I still feel like I'm somehow cheating on Mark. Which is incredibly silly because I'm not.
He smiles. "Good, because I'm officially on a budget at the moment." He types in the code he has on his phone as he chuckles. "Scott made me review one of the changes he wants to implement, and our income was the biggest one."
The door unlocks and my lips tug up. "On a budget or not, you never cease to impress me, Mark."
He bows playfully before letting me pass in front of him. "We aim to please... cabbage."
I roll my eyes knowing full well that he's probably smirking right now.
There's a set of stairs in front of us. The light on the hallways is dimmed, so it all gives you an eerie feeling. There are no pictures, no decorations, no nothing. As we reach the top floor, a guy is waiting for us on the entrance. He's wearing all black but still manages to look a bit posh with a hipster beard and haircut. He greets us by name and hands over the menu after finding us a spot next to a small chimney. My eyes roam around the room. It's a small pub, with very intimate settings, a couple of comfortable sofa's facing each other, a small table in the middle and there's another small chimney across the room. Lounge music plays in the background, but it's barely there, it makes you feel as if you're in your own living room. Okay, if you lived in a fancy apartment. Not me, though. I don't even have a chimney.
Mark shows the waiter a golden card, and the guy nods. I raise an eyebrow. "So, this isn't sumptuous at all, huh?"
"It's not!" He puts away the card on his wallet before his blue eyes land on me once more. "It's quite affordable, but I like the fact that you feel like you're in a private club."
"It seems like, it. You have a secret code and all that."
"Exactly, it's the best thing other than renting a whole restaurant."
I lean my head to the right. "You actually did that to impress me?"
Mark's smirk vanishes. He grabs his jacket and straightens an imaginary wrinkle. "I did not."
