Page 10 of Twisted Thorns

An hour later I’m at the best steakhouse in the city with Mickey James, sipping my sweet tea, and again wondering what on earth Amanda was thinking when she set up this date.

“So, Mickey, what do you like to do in your free time?”

“Oh, you know, go to the gym, check on my stocks. The yacht at my summer house is great. Nothing beats getting out on the water.”

“I’m partial to the forest myself, but I bet the water is lovely.”

“Are you into any sports? The Giants are looking good so far this year. They finally have a decent defense.”

“So I’ve heard.” I just keep nodding as Mickey talks, hoping something he says will interest me.

"Do you have investments? I was telling my friend, you have to watch out for the quad witching in the next month,” Mickey continues on, unheeding of my blank look at his talk of the financial markets. “That, plus the ER, which should be coming out soon. It's bound to shake some of those paper hands out of their positions."

I blink, stunned into silence at Mickey’s rambling.

"Anyway, are you going to the Preston Gala?" Mickey asks as he looks me up and down, like he's trying to figure out what size dress I wear.

I mentally cringe. "Yes, Amanda insists I go. And you know how Amanda is when she gets an idea in her head."

“I do. But I’m glad she suggested this.”

I don’t say anything, mentally struggling to keep up with the conversation, so Mickey continues. “I’d love to go to the gala with you. I know you'll look beautiful in a dress.”

As I glance at my dark wash jeans, black ballet flats, and green cashmere sweater, my frustrations with Mickey are on the verge of boiling over.

Thankfully, I'm saved from throwing something at Mickey when the server comes over and asks if we want dessert.

"No, thank you, just the check please, split." I quickly interrupt Mickey before he can utter a single word, itching with the need to get out of here and demand Amanda come to her senses.

Mickey, oblivious to what had just happened, or perhaps thinking he could still charm me, reaches over the table to grab my hand that was resting near my tea. "Avalina, I'd like to see you again. How about we go up to my family's summer home this weekend?"

It takes all I have in me not to yank my hand away and snarl. Who did this guy think he was?

I plaster what I hope is a smile on my face. To be honest, it feels like a grimace.

"Mickey, I had a lovely time with you, but really, I'm just here because of Amanda. I'm really not looking for a relationship right now."

Mickey's face falls. "Oh, well..."

The server interrupts him, returning with our checks. I hand over some bills, wanting to get out of here as fast as possible, practically tripping over my feet as I stand and walk away.

All of this rushing has me not paying attention to my surroundings as I’m leaving the restaurant and I head straight into what feels like a brick wall. Turns out it is just a well-muscled chest.

"I'm so sorry," I sputter, scrambling to right myself and my purse. "I wasn't paying attention and..."

"Relax, Avalina, it's fine."

Everything in me freezes at the sound of that voice. It rings through me like a bell, but I'm not sure if it was chiming my celebration or my doom.

I look up, words forgotten. "Kieran."

Eyes the color of whiskey look down at me from above high cheekbones and a firm jaw. Dressed in black slacks and a dress shirt, Kieran exudes power and danger. But there's also a vulnerability as his gaze meets mine, a flicker of longing that tugs at my heart.

"Here." Kieran offers his arm. "I'll walk you to your car."

My brows furrow. "How do you know that's where I'm going?" I say, looking sideways at him as he steps beside me, obviously waiting for me to take his outstretched arm.

Kieran shrugs, placing his hands in his pocket instead. "Just a guess. You left the restaurant so quickly, I figured you wanted to get out of here in a hurry."

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