Page 51 of The Seascape Between Us

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten dressed up to go on a date. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone on an honest-to-god date. There had been hook-ups over the years—I wasn’t a monk—but I just didn’t have time fordatingor relationships. Not that what was happening between Grey and me was arelationship. Living together for the last month had confused things. Now that the hotel was finished, I could move back into the hotel, and Grey could come back here. He probably missed being home and his normal life.

Being here, in Grey’s space, felt like shining a spotlight on just how different we were. It was easy to forget while we werestaying at his father’s house. We could fall into our domestic routine and forget how far apart our lives really were. But there was no hiding from reality here, surrounded by the evidence of everything Grey had accomplished, and it was very clear that I didn’t fit into this part of his life. How could I?

Expensive dinners. Designer clothes that weren’t bought specifically to bury your best friend. The art on his walls probably cost more than everything I owned. It was all part of life so far removed from my own I might as well be visiting an alien planet.

I emerged from the guest bathroom and returned to the living room, where Grey waited. He’d changed into a blue designer suit that made him look stylish and hot. I, on the other hand, dressed in my black seven-year-old suit, looked as if I was going to a funeral.

“God, you look good enough to eat,” Grey said.

I grinned, even though I was sure he was just being nice. “Promises, promises.”

He leaned in like he might kiss me, but backed away before he did. “If we start up, we’ll never get out of here.”

Chuckling, I followed him out. The restaurant was only a few blocks away, so we decided to walk. The night air still felt warm—a sure sign that summer was just around the corner. The streets were busy with slow-moving traffic and pedestrians hurrying along the sidewalks. Most shops we passed had closed, but the bars and restaurants in the busy downtown were crowded.

We stopped outside a sedate brick building, and Grey opened the door for me. Inside, the lighting was low, warming the muted colors and deep woods, and diners spoke in hushed voices. The scent of rich food teased my nose despite the nerves making my fingers tingle.

The place wasnice,nicer than anywhere I’d been in a long time—probably ever. I felt awkward and out of place, gangly and oversized. It reminded me of how I felt when I had my first real growth spurt in high school, and my limbs didn’t feel like they belonged to me. The sensation had returned, standing there in my funeral suit that pulled just a little too tight across my shoulders. As if sensing my discomfort, Grey linked our fingers together, squeezing my hand gently. I looked over at him, and he smiled.

“Relax,” he said. “You’re supposed to be having a good time, remember?”

“I am,” I lied, hoping my smile didn’t look as forced as it felt.

A hostess dressed all in black took us to a table in a private corner tucked away near the front of the restaurant, and the tension gripping me eased a little. At least here, out of sight, I didn’t feel so conspicuous. Here, tucked away, no one could look at me and guess I didn’t belong.

After Grey ordered wine for us both, I turned my attention to the menu. No prices on anything.If you have to ask…

“Hey,” Grey said. I looked up to meet his gaze. He was frowning, watching with narrowed eyes. “Are you okay? You’ve got your stressed look.”

“Stressed look?”I had a stressed look?

“Yeah, you get this sort of pinched thing right here.” He reached out, gently smoothing the skin between my brows.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back from his touch. “I’m fine, but this place… It’s just… I’m… This place is fancier than I’m used to.”

“It’s a nice place, and the food’s amazing. That’s why I brought you here. You should try the New York strip. You’ll love it, and you belong here as much as anyone else. You deserve good things, more so than a lot of people, actually.”

“So do you,” I told him, meaning it. “When I saw your place… I’m just really happy for you. You did so well for yourself. I’m not surprised, though. You were always smart and talented.”

He set his menu down and gave me a long, measured look. “You are, too. You know that, right?”

“It’s not the same. Look at everything you accomplished.” He couldn’t compare what he did with what I did. I ran a broken-down hotel, struggling to keep the doors open and to keep it from collapsing in on itself. He built a billion-dollar company from the ground up. We weren’t the same.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but the server returned with our wine and took our order. I asked for the New York like Grey suggested. When the server left our table, Grey turned his attention back to me, his expression unusually serious.

“I inherited money,” he said. “When my grandmother passed away, on my mom’s side, she left mea lotof money. I could buy the loft, start my company, and put all my time and energy into it. I didn’t have to stretch my funds between my business and caring for an ill parent.”

“I get what you’re saying—”

“Do you? Because your tone says otherwise. I’ve been fortunate, and while I worked my ass off, I wouldn’t have had the success that I had without that money.”

“You would have,” I said. “It might have taken you longer, but you would have done it. It’s who you are.”

“Maybe,” Grey conceded. “But you would have too if you’d had the same opportunities.” Somehow, I doubted it. Still, he pushed on. “You’ll see now that the work is done, and you don’t have that hanging over your head. Now that you can just focus on your business, you’ll see what you can accomplish.”

I hoped he was right. My god, what if we did all this work, and I found myself in the same place I was in a few years down the line? What if Grey’s investment in the hotel, in me, was a totalwaste of money and time? What if I couldn’t make it work, even with all his help? Sweat slicked my skin at the very thought.

“Grey!” A man’s voice rose up over the din of dinner conversation, loud and grating in the otherwise quiet restaurant. A few diners looked up as an attractive man wove between tables, heading straight toward us. His hair was light-blond and swept back from the well-defined lines of his face and square jaw. He was tall and lean, the swimmer’s build, and very attractive. His eyes, the same color as the Caribbean Sea, were fixed on Grey.

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