Page 58 of The Confidentiality Clause
I involuntarily kick on instinct, and the woman ducks to the side to dodge it with lightning speed.
“Brock!” Ariel reaches over and hits me, then looks at the woman. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
I gape at her. “Issheokay? I’m the one being tormented over here!”
“It’s not that bad,” Shaw says through his laughter.
I point at him. “But you didn’t say it was good. You’re holding in how much you hate this.”
“Yes, because I’m a man.”
“If I had something to throw at you right now, I would,” I say and sit back in my seat.
“I won’t touch your toes,” the woman says.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’m sorry for kicking you.”
She shrugs. “It happens. I’m fast.”
I give Ariel a pointed look. “See, I’m not the only one who feels this way.”
“But you are the only one here who just tried to knock out your nail tech because she tickled you.” She pats my arm condescendingly. “It’s okay, you just have sensitive feet.”
“We’re back to my feet again.” I smirk. “I think my theory was right.”
Her face turns red and she shoots me a warning look.
“What are you two talking about?” Sutton asks.
“Just about how Brock is being overdramatic,” Ariel says quickly before turning her attention back to Sutton.
I chuckle at her blush until I spy Shaw watching us. I’ve been too talkative with Ariel lately. And she touched me a few times. He’s liable to get suspicious.
My brow furrows. Whywasshe touching me so much? I don’t think it’s always been that way with us. My mind brings up different memories from the past few weeks. I pull at the collar of my button-down as my neck gets hot. Okay, so we’ve had some more moments lately. No big deal. I’ll just make sure to put some distance between us so that no one gets the wrong idea.
I glance over at Ariel’s pink cheekbones. I hope she hasn’t gotten the wrong idea, either.
Chapter twenty-six
Ariel Cambridge
My lips gleam in my visor mirror as I apply another coat of clear gloss. I smile at my reflection. A soft brown smokey eye, the perfect amount of blush, and red-stained lips topped with a shiny gloss. It’s one of my better first date looks. The classic red lip pairs well with my equally classic little black dress. There’s nothing like a black dress to make me feel ready to conquer the world. Or in this case, meet the guy I’ve been texting almost every day in person.
I step out of my car and smooth down my dress, inspecting it for any obvious wrinkles or pieces of lint. The short fit and flare dress perfectly accents my waist while showing off my legs. I paired it with my favorite open toed YSL heels and a matching black bag. My smile widens as I see the white polish on my toes and recall Brock’s antics at the nail salon yesterday. It was hilarious seeing him so upended by a simple pedicure, and laughing at him with my best friend made it all the better.
I lock my car, throw the key in my bag, and square my shoulders. Here’s hoping this date is better than the last. My face scrunches at the memory of being stood up. Yeah, this has to go better than that or else I might call it quits on dating altogether.
The low lighting of the restaurant has me blinking as soon as I walk in. Sakura is an upscale Japanese steakhouse and sushi place. It’s all sleek lines and sharp edges. There are abstract depictions of cherry blossoms on the walls, and each table has a branch floating in a crystal vase surrounded by tealights. It’s the kind of place people go to propose or woo a potential investor. I’ve been here on a few occasions for company work dinners, but never for a first date.
I step to the hostess stand. She looks up from her glowing tablet with the seating chart.
“Welcome to Sakura. Do you have a reservation?”
“I’m meeting someone. I believe the reservation is under Dr. Taylor.”
She taps around on the tablet before looking up again with a smile. “Yes, right this way.”
I follow her down the dimly lit path between booths and tables. She stops at a booth in the middle and butterflies swarm in my stomach at the sight of Cohen smiling at me. He stands, and I take him in. He’s wearing a navy suit with a white button-down, and a slim tie that coordinates with a pocket square he has tucked into the coat.
