Page 39 of A Very Happy Halloween

“What were you doing, waiting around the corner?”

“Yup.”

Did he realise how wanted those little things made me feel?

“I thought I’d have at least ten minutes. Why are you wearing a shirt and tie?”

“Because I owe you a fancy dinner.”

“We’re going out?”

“No. Find a dress.”

I wasn’t really a dress kind of woman. The last time Steven had taken me on an actual date, Alfie had still been in nappies. After a quick scrabble through my closet, I settled on a plain black number that was loose enough to hide my lumps and bumps, short enough to be interesting, and sparkly enough to appear as if I’d made an effort. I teamed it with a pair of heels and decided against tights. I’d waxed everywhere yesterday morning, and Eis had that feral look that meant tights would get shredded anyway.

He nodded approvingly as I walked down the stairs. “Nice. We might not make it to dinner.”

“We’d better make it to dinner. I’m starving.”

“At least it’s nearly ready.”

By “nearly ready,” he meant that the butler he’d hired for the evening was waiting by the front door of Twilight’s End with champagne, the chef was putting the finishing touches to the starter in the kitchen, and a maid was waiting in the formal dining room to bring our plates.

Fancy.

So freaking fancy.

“This is too much,” I whispered. No way had Eis ordered this spread through Deliveroo.

“It’s not enough.”

Rather than sitting opposite me, Eis took his place at the head of the table with me to his right. At first, I thought it might be a bit of a power play, but then I realised he’d done it for access purposes. Far easier for him to run a hand up my bare thigh if it was right there next to him.

“There’s someone else in the room,” I hissed.

“Don’t worry, all the staff sign NDAs.”

“You think the paperwork is the problem?”

“You’re such a good girl, Janie. I’m going to corrupt you.”

“A good girl? I screwed you in a stranger’s office last week, didn’t I?”

Too late, I realised the butler had glided up behind us with a bottle of red. Dammit!

My cheeks burned while he poured a splash of wine, waited for Eis to swirl and sniff, and then filled our glasses.

“I never understood that swirling thing people do.”

“Swirling releases the aromas, and smelling the wine tells you its character.”

“My wine’s character is best described as ‘on special offer.’”

Eis chuckled. “I’ll add wine tasting to the list of things we have to do together.” Like a Groupon? “My family has a vineyard in the South of France,” he continued.

Of course they freaking did.

“How can this possibly work?” I mumbled out loud.

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