The Law of Attraction

(18)

William stares at me, his eyes transfixed on mine with a sense of jest.

"Are you serious?" He asks.

"I don't see why not." I reply in steadfast defense.

It's been a week since we addressed our feelings, but there's still so much we haven't said.

Currently, I'm attempting to get him to take me on a proper date.

"You aren't worried it will get back to your father?" He adds, crossing one leg over the other in his leather arm chair, a calculated movement.

"He's much too preoccupied with this new woman he's been seeing to even notice I'm not home." I offer as a rebuttal. Honestly, Lawyers are so hard to convince.

"Exactly, my darling. Which is why he is more likely to find us. He could be out where we are."

I know the risks, but I want to feel what it's like to be Williams proper girlfriend at least once. We haven't labeled it, but I have a feeling we've both accepted the dangerous situation our feelings are in.

"Just a dinner." I bargain, walking closer and putting a hand on his knee, tracing circles.

He takes my hand and brings it gently to his lips, kissing the skin softly and then smirking.

"It breaks my heart to deny you something so simple."

"Then that's a yes?" I ask, a child like smile etching on my face.

"One dinner, but we have to be careful Bella. It isn't ideal, but I can't stay away from you, and I love working with your father-"

"I know." I cut him off.

"I know. You worked hard to join his firm. I don't want to ruin that for you. Maybe I'm just being immature." I look away dejectedly.

William stands up and lifts my chin to give me a small kiss on the lips.

When we part he offers me an exaggerated bow and rallies is best French accent.

"If you want romance my dear Isabella then romance you shall have."

***

We made a reservation for Thursday night at a swanky modern Indian restaurant. I may have chosen this venue specifically because my father hates curry, but that's neither here nor there.

When I open Williams door he's standing there in a white button up shirt and dark blue slacks. Some of his brown hair is slicked back while some falls over his forehead lazily. He's holding gorgeous yellow roses, and I almost faint like a cheesy noir damsel.

"For you, beautiful." William says with a knowing smile. Yellow is my favorite color, regardless of what it's applied to.

I grab the flowers and breathe their scent in deeply.

"No one has ever bought me yellow roses before. I haven't exactly received a lot of flowers at all." I admit. Usually to receive flowers you have to actually have a living breathing boyfriend.

Not that I do right now either though. Right?

"You shouldn't have told me that, Isabella. Now I'll go bankrupt showering you in bouquets." Williams words are like silk, but I know his tongue is forked.

Against my better judgement, I blush wildly and stammer as he links his arm with my own, leading me towards his car.

How can he say such romantic things to me? Does his heart pang like mine does when he goes out of the way to contradict himself?