Page 106 of Serving the Mogul

I offered a half-shrug instead and grabbed the wine list.

I flipped it open, and Cecil said, “Oh, I had a bottle in mind for us to try.”

I refrained from gritting my teeth and said, “We usually have pretty different tastes in wine. Might be better to each order a separate glass of wine.”

“Trust me, you’ll love this.” Cecil gave me a broad smile.

The sommelier approached and started her spiel, only for Cecil to cut her off with a question about whatever wine I’d supposedly love. They didn’t have it. Cecil scowled at the sommelier’s response. “Really? I think an establishment like this would be intent on keeping the wine cellar stocked with the best wines possible.”

“We do, sir.” She inclined her head. “But we pride ourselves on serving meals—and wines—that are all sourced from the great state of Texas. Would you care for some suggestions based on that wine?”

Cecil’s smile was tighter this time. “I think I’ll settle for scotch instead. Whatever the house label is.”

“Of course.” As she turned to me, Cecil muttered under his breath.

“What about you, ma’am?”

I requested a glass from the wine list, a vintage I’d tried before. Once she left, I shot Cecil a narrow look. “You don’t need to be so rude.”

His shoulders jerked, cheeks flushing. I stiffened, half expecting a sharp retort. But he took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just…well, you’ve had a busy day and that unpleasantness at the site…I wanted tonight to be good for you.”

He reached across the table and brushed his fingers over mine, his expression softening, warming to one I knew well.

Shit.

Under the guise of checking my phone, I withdrew my hand. “Any meal I don’t have to cook for myself is good, Cecil.” I kept my response easy. After taking a sip of my water, I tucked both hands into my lap. “Why don’t you tell me about the projects you did after I left California?”

His face lit up.

There was one thing guaranteed to distract this man—an invitation to talk about his favorite subject.

Himself.

* * *

“Amazing,”Cecil all but moaned before slipping another bite of the Chocolate Passion Cake into his mouth.

Cecil had edged closer to themore-than-friendsline throughout the meal. It was apparent now that I’d made a big mistake agreeing to come here with him.

“This is a great little place, isn’t it?” Cecil slid the fork from his mouth and licked the tines slowly as he waited for me to answer.

“I like it.” Keeping my voice brisk, I methodically cut into my dessert.

When Luis, our server, appeared with the ticket, I popped up. “I need to use the restroom, Cecil.”

I hurried in that direction, mentally calculating my portion of the ticket. I deliberated on whether I should just catch a server and pay, so I could slip awaynow, or face rejecting Cecil later tonight.

It only took a short time to use the restroom, but I decided as I stared at my reflection. “I’ll do this the smart way.”

I counted out the bills in my wallet and included enough for a tip. Cecil was a stingy,greedyasshole, on top of his other, not-so-redeeming qualities. Cash in hand, I opened the door and stepped out, checking for Luis. With a sigh of relief, I caught sight of him coming around the corner. He smiled in greeting, but frowned at the cash I held out.

“For my half, plus the tip.” I gave a short nod. “Can you let my dinner companion know I had to go?”

A sympathetic smile curved his lips. “Of course.”

I moved to step around him, and he angled his head to the side. “There’s a side exit. For employees, but the manager won’t mind if you use it. It’s…less busy.”

“Thanks.” I looked over my shoulder in the direction he’d nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

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