Page 84 of Best In Class
I love her jealousy.
“Actually, they’re not fake.”
She throws a pencil at me. I catch it.
“Copped a feel, did you?”
“Nah. The only tits I’m interested in are yours, Moonbeam.”
She blushes. The rare pink flush tells me I’ve won this round.
CHAPTER 22
Luna
“Where are we going?” I ask as he drives us.
I told Aurora, ‘No fucking way’was she dressing me for this second date.
Dressing up last time was fun and all—and totally worth it to see Dom’s tongue hang out—but I’ll save that for special occasions. Can’t have him getting too used to it.
I am back in jeans.ButI have on a cream-colored raw silk blouse to let Dom know that I’mstillmaking an effort.
Dom drives us toward the riverfront, the city softening under the golden blur of evening.
He parks near The Wyld Dock Bar—a waterfront spot with picnic tables on the dock, string lights overhead, and marshland views that go on forever.
It’s casual but thoughtful.
Southern food with clean lines.
Cozy, but not loud.
I’ve been expecting him to pull out all thestops—Elizabeth’s on 37th, Noble Fare, something grand. But this? This is surprising and utterly charming. Also, heart-stopping, as he’s telling me that he knows me and what matters to me, matters to him. Andthatmight be the most romantic thing of all.
We’re not people who go to places to be seen.
Some do, and more power to them, but I’m not interested in that aspect of Savannah society. If I go to a restaurant that’s on the higher end, it’s because I’m with friends, because I’m there for the food and the wine, not to take pictures and post them on social media.
Hell, I don’t have a single social media account—unless LinkedIn counts.
“This is an inspired choice,” I remark.
He slips his hand onto the small of my back as we walk toward the host stand. “You said you liked places with good crispy okra and bad acoustics.”
“Did I?”
“A month ago, when we had a meeting with Tommy.”
I frown, trying to remember.
“I asked you to have lunch with me after the meeting, you told me to go fuck myself because we’d just argued about?—”
“Zoning overlays,” I cut in, as it comes back to me.
“I asked if you’d have lunch at Olde Pink, and you said they don’t have okra on the menu and their acoustics are too good.”
How on earth does he remember something I can’t?
