Page 15 of Bride By Coronation

Why am I still wearing this?

It's cold.

So? I have hundreds of scarves.

I inhale deeper, wrap the soft cashmere around my neck, and text my driver. Then, I slide the binder into a huge briefcase. I leave the building, and a gust of wind hits my face.

Cillian waits next to the SUV. He questions, "Where to?" and opens the back door.

"Skyline," I state, sliding across the leather.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, then closes the door and goes to the driver's side. He gets in and veers into traffic.

I sit back, staring at the buildings and the pedestrians on the sidewalk, inhaling Kirill's scent.

What is wrong with me? I need to stop wearing this.

Why does he have my dad's skull on him?

Like every time I've asked that question this past week, I have no answers. It nags at me until Cillian pulls up to the restaurant.

He gets out and opens my door.

Another harsh burst of wind slams against me as soon as I step outside. I push the scarf over my nose, rush into the building, then take the elevator to the top floor where Skyline is.

"Fiona!" Ramone sings, jumping off the bench as soon as I exit the elevator.

"Hi!" I reply, embracing him and kissing him on the cheek as he gives me one.

"Is Skylar not coming?" he questions, glancing behind me, the crinkles around his eyes popping out.

"She wasn't feeling well. I hope it's okay I came in her place?" I ask.

"Sure, sure, darling," he says, removing his top hat, and moves me toward the hostess stand. He lowers his voice, leans into my ear, and adds, "You can fill me in on what Skylar's been up to. You know, everything she won't tell me about herself." He winks.

I laugh, knowing full well I won't be disclosing any of Skylar's private affairs.

He opens the door, and the sound of guests chatting and moody music floods the atmosphere.

"Ramone! It's great to see you. Your table is ready," the hostess gushes.

"Great." He runs his hand through his dark hair, then slides his arm around my waist. He ushers me through the dimly lit restaurant. There are gold and black booths against the wall and tables with chairs next to the window. We get to our table. It's against the glass and showcases downtown Chicago with the lake behind it. Ramone circles his finger in the air.

I spin.

He helps me out of my coat, then pulls out my chair and motions with a "Sit, darling."

I obey.

He sits across from me and states, "Thanks, Fawn."

"Sure," the hostess says and then disappears.

"Good afternoon. I'm Kyle. I'll be serving you today," a twenty-something guy announces.

"Great. A bottle of Cristal, a dozen Oyster Rockefellers, and the caviar trio, please," Ramone orders.

"Yes, sir," Kyle replies, then disappears.

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