Page 70 of The Vow Thief
Of course it was.
I opened a new message and typed slowly.
Eli:Dinner tonight, 7:00 p.m.
The Grace Room. I’m looking forward to it. – Eli
I hit send, then waited.
It didn’t take long.
Sarah:Wow. The Grace Room? Should I warn them that I eat bread before the salad and won’t pretend to understand the wine list?
I laughed. Out loud. It startled even me.
Eli:Ha. I’ll bring extra bread and let you pick the wine.
Sarah:Deal. Maybe they will have the boxed stuff. See you tonight, Eli.
Her text lingered on my screen. No emoji. No unnecessary punctuation. Just clean humor and confidence.
I stared at her name for a moment longer, then set the phone down. My reflection in the black glass of my desk stared back at me.
“Tonight,” I murmured out loud.“Let’s see how close you’ll let me get.”
The morning stretched long and deliberate, and by noon, control was slipping.
I had been thinking about Sarah all morning, running her voice through my mind like a song I could not stop replaying. I had to tamp my obsession down to something manageable.
By six, I had showered, shaved, and was standing in front of the mirror studying my reflection. I chose a deep charcoal jacket, crisp white shirt, and a dark tie with a subtle sheen. The combination was deliberate, understated. Power disguised as taste.
I tightened my cufflinks and exhaled.“Calm down,” I muttered.“She’s just a woman.”
Then I caught my own expression and smirked.“You’re a liar,” I said to my reflection. I slipped on my watch, grabbed my keys, and left.
The drive to The Grace Room was uneventful. It should have been routine, but my pulse refused to slow. I thought about her voice, the precision in her words, the way she seemed immune to flattery. I admired that, and I absolutely hated that I admired it.
When I pulled into the curved drive of The Grace Room, the restaurant’s golden lights reflected in the windshield like a signal. The valet greeted me. I handed over my keys and buttoned my jacket.
Then I saw her.
Sarah stood by the entrance, hair loose and shining under the soft exterior lighting. Her black dress was simple and devastating, fitted perfectly, the fabric whispering a honed body beneath when she moved. The neckline framed her collarbones, and the hint of a gold pendant drew the eye lower than it should. Her skin held that natural glow that comes from discipline, not indulgence.
“Eli,” she said as I approached, her smile calm and confident.“You look great.”
I let my eyes linger just long enough to make her notice.“My goodness, Sarah. You make beauty look effortless.”
She chuckled,“Oh, this took effort. My daughter wanted to do my makeup. You’re lucky I don’t look like a sparkly unicorn.”
We both laughed and followed the hostess as she led us to a corner table surrounded by candlelight and soft jazz. It was the kind of place where the walls seemed to embrace you.
“Wow, Eli. The Grace Room is something else. I’ve never been here before. If it were to speak, it wouldn’t speak at all, it would… “
“ …it would sing,” I interrupted.“Exactly,” she laughed.“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
I stared at her mouth a bit too long, wondering how it would taste against mine.
“So, you are a music lover too?” She asked with pure curiosity.
