Page 56 of Enthrall
Well-dressed diners chatted away at pristine white clothed tables. Dim lighting bestowed an ambience of decadence. The decor gave the place a homey yet expensive look. Pictures were crammed throughout, heightening the coziness with arty chaos.
“You’re a bastard,” I whispered, and gave the maitre d’ the sweetest nod.
Cameron scanned the room. “You flatter me.”
“Dr. Cole, we’re expecting you, sir,” said the maitre d’. “You’re joining Senator DeLuca?”
“We are, thank you, Charles,” said Cameron.
“Ma’am,” said Charles, turning sharp on his heel and leading us off.
We were guided across the full restaurant, navigating tables and chairs. Staring dead ahead, I didn’t want to catch any critical glances from the other guests or even the waiters. My confidence was already shaky and I didn’t need any encouragement to descend into panic.
A man rose to greet us. Senator DeLuca, I assumed. He wore the smartest blue pin-striped suit and his bow tie made him look super rich. He beamed at Cameron and reacted with delight when he caught sight of me. He looked around forty-ish and was unexpectedly dashing with his jet-black hair and olive complexion. Though the way he ate me up sent chills down my spine. I cursed Cameron for dressing me so slutty and these ponytails only made things worse.
This, I’d learned, was a subconscious alarm I should have listened to.
Why change a habit of a lifetime and listen to my intuition?
We joinedSenator DeLucain the booth. The high-backed wooden seat gave the illusion of privacy, though the leather padding was at least comfortable on my bare legs. I sat opposite the senator.
Beside Cameron, I watched him navigate the social pleasantries, introducing us to each other and even ordering a bottle of Dom Perignon with the confidence I’d come to know him for.
Oh, champagne. This might even be fun.
Cameron peered at the menu. “For the lady —” Hetwisted his mouth thoughtfully – “Magret de Canard Sauce Cerises.” He handed the menu to the waiter.
I prodded his thigh. “I don’t like cherries.”
“Someone reads French.” Cameron narrowed his gaze. “What other secrets are you keeping from us?”
“Can I order my own?” I whispered self-consciously.
Senator DeLucaand the waiter had fixed their attention upon me.
“Senator?” said Cameron.
“She’ll have the sesame seared Ahi tuna?” Senator DeLuca told the waiter.
“Good choice,” said Cameron.
If the server thought this exchange was odd, he certainly didn’t show it as he scribbled it down. He went on to take Cameron’s order of New York cut sirloin steak with asparagus and Senator DeLuca’s pan seared brook trout.
The waiter scurried away to the kitchen.
Not quite sure what had happened there, I resisted the urge to speak up, reminded of when Richard had chosen my ice-cream. These men really had control issues. Still, I wasn’t here to eat but merely follow through on our agreement and make small talk with Cameron’s guest, and make him happy. I hoped this was something I could pull off. There might even be a bonus if Cameron went through on his promise. From all he’d splurged on so far it looked promising. I’d be able to pay off my step-mother’s radiology bill, I thought, reaching for my champagne.
My bubbly tasted dry and cold and I took what I hoped were several discreet gulps to calm myself. If Cameron so much as hinted more might be expected I’d merely excuse myself, telling him I needed to use the restroom, and bolt. Even if he had bought me these amazing shoes. My plan helped me relax.
That was until Cameron slid his hand up my dress and along my thigh and rested it there. I glared at him, trying to send a discreet message I wanted him to remove it.
Cameron ignored me, keeping his focus on Senator DeLuca. “How is your family?”
“Well, and yours?” he said.
“All good. I hear our sisters had lunch in New York last month?” said Cameron.
“Yes. They had fun.”
