Page 23 of Wishing Stone

Alexander shook his head. “Trust me, angel, and go with Hale.”

“This way, Miss Krystina,” Hale said as he took hold of my arm.

I knew how Alexander and Hale operated together, and it appeared as if I didn’t have a choice. When they decided to be tight-lipped about something, there was no chance in hell that I’d get either of them to budge. In the end, curiosity got the best of me. I didn’t question things further and allowed Hale to guide the way.

We walked through the expansive family room and the open kitchen, past the large glass windows that gave a glimpse at the outdoor swimming pool before entering the back hallway that led to the garage.

“Are we going somewhere?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice. I found it hard to believe that Alexander would have us actually go out somewhere to eat. There had to be something else going on. “Should I be getting a coat?”

Hale simply shook his head but didn’t bother to hide the rare smile that curved the corners of his lips. I shivered from the cold garage as he led me to the Porsche SUV and opened the back door.

“Please get inside,” he said with a sweep of his hand. “I started the car twenty minutes ago, so it should be plenty warm in there.”

Oh, for Christ’s sake. What the hell are they up to?

I puffed out an exasperated breath but continued to play along. When Hale simply drove around the front of the house, then stopped to let me out, I was genuinely confused. I walked beside him with a furrowed brow as he led me to the front door. Once inside, I was greeted by the grand staircase that Alexander and I had literally just come down.

“Follow me, Miss,” Hale said.

I followed him until we reached the dining room. When we crossed the threshold, my eyes immediately went to Alexander, who stood just a few feet inside the doorway. He looked as perfect as usual. His dark waves framed his savagely gorgeous face and skimmed the collar of his gray button-down.

Stepping up to me, he placed his hand possessively on the small of my back. I loved when he touched me there. The steady pressure made me feel incredibly protected and cherished.

“I’ve got it from here, Hale. Thank you,” Alexander said.

Looking around the spacious room, I immediately noticed that everything was different. A small candlelit table set for two was to the left of the long tigerwood dining table. It wasn’t normally there. In fact, everything about the room was out of place. Our dining chairs were flipped up on end, and sheets covered portions of the other furniture. It was almost as if one were trying to give the appearance that a remodel was underway. It was strange. The room had been rearranged to look nothing like our dining room, yet it still had a familiar feel.

I glanced up at Alexander to see that he was watching me with those irresistible sapphire blues. He seemed to be gauging my reaction. I shifted my gaze back to the room, my eyes darting to each misplaced object.

What am I missing?

The lighting had been dimmed, and soft guitar music was playing from a speaker hidden somewhere in the room. I recognized the music as Tadeusz Machalski, one of Alexander’s favorite musicians. He had discovered the guitar player in Venice, Italy, a fact I’d learned on our very first date at Matteo Donati’s restaurant before he’d opened it up to the public.

And that’s when it clicked.

The upside-down chairs, the table for two, my outfit, the music—Alexander was trying to recreate our first unofficial date. Even the aroma wafting from the kitchen was the same, and I wondered if Alexander asked Vivian to make some of Matteo’s specialty dishes.

“Welcome to Krystina’s Place,” Alexander said, referring to the name of Matteo’s restaurant that Alexander had financially backed. “Well, it wasn’t called that when we first went there, but you get the drift.”

“Alex, this is amazing! Everything looks just like it did on our first date.”

“The only thing missing is one exuberant Italian waiter, but Vivian promised to do her best to replace him,” Alexander said with a wink.

“Oh, no!” I giggled. “Poor Vivian. I really hope you aren’t going to make her play the role of Matteo.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be the only one calling youbellatonight.”

I shook my head, still surprised by the attention to recreate the details of that night.

“What in the world prompted you to do all of this in the first place?”

“You’ve just seemed down lately—definitely not yourself—and I wanted to do something different to cheer you up. Come have a seat, angel.”

Taking hold of my elbow, Alexander guided me toward the small table and pulled out a chair for me to sit. As he pushed me in closer to the table, I had a sense of déjà vu, and I couldn’t help but recall how nervous I’d been to dine with Alexander that night so many years ago.

Nervous is an understatement. I’d been an absolute jittery wreck.

The corners of my mouth turned up from the memory.

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