Page 17 of Brooke
She grabbed a cab from the street, clutching the small burgundy purse she’d chosen from her closet, another colorSawyer had used in the painting. Axel had offered to pick her up, but having him show up at the house would only have alerted her roommates to this being more than a business dinner. She’d insisted on meeting him there.
That gave her time to call her dad. She had the urge to check on him since it was Friday night. He wasn’t lonely, was he? But she got his voicemail, which suggested he’d gone out, so she left a message. “Hi, Daddy! Seems we’re trading voicemails right now. I’m glad you’ve been busy exploring Paris. I’m out with Axel for dinner now that our project has kicked off. I’ll call you tomorrow after yoga. Love you.”
When she arrived at the restaurant, Axel was standing beside the restaurant’s façade, his eyes closed. The sight of his steel blue suit hugging his powerful frame kicked up her already racing heart. Both his height and good looks drew glances from people passing by on the cool autumn night, but she was most struck by the complete serenity on the broad planes of his face. He looked like a man savoring the moment, completely comfortable in his masculinity. She started toward him, drawn to him.
His blue eyes opened instantly, and a wide smile slowly broke over his face. “You’re on time.”
Even without her day planner running her life, she would have thought it rude to be otherwise. “So are you.”
“I detest people who keep others waiting on purpose, but such negative thoughts are not how I wish to begin this beautiful evening.” His gaze dipped in a slow, spine-tingling perusal. “A new dress, I see. In apricot.”
Her mouth parted before she narrowed her eyes. “How would you know it’s new?”
“A sense, given the way the dress falls around you, but also I cannot detect any dry cleaning scents.” He stepped closer to her, and she had to lift her head to meet his eyes. “Your Chanel No. 5 is very pleasing, as are you. Shall we begin our adventure tonight?”
She felt a skipping sensation in her belly, like a little kid doing hopscotch, and her heart struck another fresh pack of matches. What weird feelings. But they danced through her like quicksilver. “I thought we’d already begun our adventure.”
The left side of his gorgeous mouth tipped up. “Ah…I stand corrected.”
She wanted to cheer herself and announce to everyone on the street.Do you see me? Being all brave and showing up like this?They smiled at each other, and she was aware of the thrumming of her heart amidst a calm mind. Then he pressed his hand to the center of her back, his touch sending jolts up her spine, and they walked inside.
The décor was austere with pale gray walls devoid of artwork, tables covered in white tablecloths lacking any ornamentation, and cold metal black chairs that would not be comfortable. Conversation was hushed, as if the patrons understood they needed to be on their best behavior. Brooke preferred livelier places, ones that tapped into the heart of Paris. This restaurant might have been anywhere. Also, she could detect no smell. One thing about Nanine’s was that there was always something to tantalize the nose.
Look, she was already making notes for Madison.
After giving their names, they were led to their table. Paris was like a small town in some ways, and she acknowledged a few people she knew with polite nods. Before freezing a moment as she spotted one draped in orange Versace.
A rival fashion writer from a magazine in Milan.
Giulia Mariani.
A woman who saw everyone else who wrote in fashion as a rival. It was rumored she carried Catherine de Medici’s pearl and diamond stick pin, given to her by a billionaire lover when she was a top Italian model. Some even said she kept it tipped with poison so she could stab anyone who got in her way.
Giulia’s plump, surgically-enhanced lips formed a polite sneer as Brooke nodded to her and her companion, a fashion designer, as she and Axel walked by. The rumors about Giulia sleeping her way through fashion’s most legendary designers were well-known, something she’d been doing since her days walking the catwalks.
Even so, making the transition to fashion writer had not been easy, and Brooke admired her work. Which did not mean she enjoyed the other woman’s company. Every time they were in a room together, Brooke wanted to take the chair against the wall.
When they reached their table, Axel seated her, the kind of gentlemanly act she didn’t expect but always turned her head. Because if a guy wasn’t on his best behavior on a first date, he wasn’t worth any more effort.
She was aware people had probably noticed the move—Giulia especially—and her breath stilled in her lungs. Did Axel normally conduct himself so?
Moments after Axel seated himself with his back to the restaurant, a trio of servers appeared, one to present them each with menus, the other the wine list. It felt like overkill. The moment they left she pulled out her phone and started her notes, telling herself to shut Giulia and everyone else out of her mind.
“Is there something important you need to take care of?”
She bobbled her phone and looked up. Axel’s large frame took up most of his side of the table, something she took a moment to admire before she noted that his brows were knit together. “Madison wanted me to jot down my thoughts,” she said in a stage whisper. “About the restaurant. It has two Michelin stars.”
“Which is why I chose it.” His voice was also a whisper, soft in its earthiness. “That’s what Madison wants. What do you want?”
What did she want? Holy?—
“That’s a loaded question.”
“Is it? Personally, I would like to devote all my intention to you tonight, and I hope you’re willing to do the same. How about you mention any items to me, and I will send you a set of notes tomorrow. I have a good memory.”
“So do I, but…”
His disappointment was obvious, all of his earlier humor and happiness at seeing her wiped from his now stoic face. Yes, this was the stoicism she’d been told about. Only, she didn’t like the look on him.
