Page 33 of Turbulent Fires

“There’s been a scheduling mix-up, and it looks like I need to go sign some papers,” he tells me. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour, two at most. Can I meet you for dinner?”

“That will be fine. We won’t get out of here for at least an hour, maybe longer,” I assure him. I look at his clothes. “We’re going to Le Ceil Bleu.” I’m not sure if he even knows the place.

He doesn’t look fazed. “Sounds good. I’ll call you when the meeting’s over and see where you are.” He leans down and gives me a quick kiss on the lips, then says goodbye to my parents before he walks from the room. I do love the view of him walking away.

As soon as he exits the room, I flee. I know my parents are going to have a ton of questions, but I need a shower. That will give me time to compose myself. I firmly shut my bedroom door, then take my time showering and getting ready.

By the time I come out we have to leave. I message Wolf that we’re heading out, and he says it’s perfect timing. He’ll meet us there.

Le Ciel Bleu is one of Seattle’s crown jewels with crystal chandeliers, hushed voices, and servers who speak in multiple languages and judge hard. As much as I’d love not to care what others think, I do to a certain extent.

I’m wearing an elegant black dress, expensive heels, subtle diamond jewelry, and have my hair pulled up in a twist I rarely bother with. I scan the entrance for Wolf as soon as we walk inside. No sign of him yet.

We’re quickly seated, and I let the host know we have one more joining us. The waiter approaches fast. With the price tag of this restaurant, patrons are expected to be served with respect and efficiency.

I look out the window while my father orders wine. We’re seated at a table with views of the harbor. A string quartet is playing near the fountain. I might not like coming to fancy places too often, but I have to admit, the atmosphere is quite lovely.

Right as the waiter is finishing the drink and appetizer order, Wolf strolls in, looking utterly at ease and confident. He’s upgraded his outfit to a nice pair of slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a fitted blazer. He looks absolutely delicious.

“Hello, Antonio,” Wolf says.

“Good to see you, Captain,” the waiter replies before he rushes off.

“I apologize for being late. We got it all worked out,” Wolf says before he sits beside me. My father looks at Wolf, his thinking cap on. He’s realizing there’s more to Wolf than meets the eye. My dad hasn’t gotten to where he is in life by being stupid, and it’s clear his jacket isn’t from a rack. Who is Wolf? I don’t really know, but I do know I love my time with him, and am nowhere close to ready for it to end.

“You know the staff here?” my dad asks.

“I know a few people,” Wolf says, not giving anything about himself away. I realize he’s shared with me about the loss of his parents, and told me how close he is with his brothers, but I don’t know a ton about him. I don’t know if he owns a home, if he’s made future plans. I don’t know a heck of a lot more than that the man loves adventure and makes me scream in pleasure.

The wine arrives, and soon after, our appetizers. The mood is a bit lighter, though I can see my dad really studying Wolf. The man’s become a mystery to my dad, and he wants to solve it fast. If Wolf’s dating me, though, Dad will want to know everything about him. He’ll probably have his entire history before the night’s over. This is why I don’t bring men home, not that I’ve ever gone on as many dates with any other man than I have with Wolf. They usually bore me by now.

Conversation flows as Wolf has my mother laughing at a story about getting locked in a cockpit during a prank war with a co-pilot named Skeeter. My dad shakes his head, but even his lips are twitching.

“Did you have to stay in there all night?” my mother asks in horror.

“Yep, fell asleep with my face pressed against the controls. I lost that war. It doesn’t happen often, but I guess victory only tastes as sweet as it does because we’ve all felt the sting of loss once or twice.”

My mother beams at me. “I like this one,” she says in what she thinks is a hushed tone, but isn’t.

The conversation continues, then my dad sits up as his gaze intensifies. Something has clicked in his brain. “Young,” he says, drawing out Wolf’s last name.

“Yep, great name and philosophy. I refuse to grow old,” Wolf says.

“You grew up in California?”

“Yep, still visit there a lot,” he says. I didn’t know this about him either. I’m learning a lot with my parents here.

“Did you know a Gregory Young?” Dad asks. Wolf’s smile grows.

“That was my dad.”

My dad leans back, a grin on his lips. I don’t know what’s happening. “I’ll be damned,” he says. He’s truly looking at Wolf in a whole new light, and I’m utterly lost.

“What’s happening, Dad?” I ask.

“I knew Gregory well. We worked together a few times. He was a hard man in business and sharp as hell. He was also loyal. We struck a deal on a resort in Long Beach years ago.”

Wolf has a sad smile on his lips. “That must’ve been the Emerald Coast Project. He was working on that just before...” He trails off, and I have no doubt this must’ve been the time his parents died.

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