Page 24 of Becoming Brandy

“A scare tactic? Is that how you deal with all your dates?”

He took a step forward, trying to bridge the gap between them. “Sometimes.”

She inched backward. “Well, that doesn’t work with me.”

“What does work with you?” he rumbled.

How should she answer? The direct answer was there were lots of ways to her heart and her… er, panties. There was the hot passionate sexual attraction like what she felt with Tork. There was also the slow, sweet courtship she shared with Wrek. She doubted Drake would like to hear about either.

“Start with not trying to scare me. Maybe talk to me. Take me to dinner.”

“Take you to dinner?” he growled.

He moved away, and she wondered if her time with him had ended. Then she worried he was going to come back and force himself on her, something she wouldn’t put past a man who’d tried to use the threat of rape as a scare tactic.

Instead, the lights in the room gradually warmed until it flickered with candlelight. An expensive Italian restaurant appeared—a single table dripping in fine linen, a candelabra above, wall sconces, and a string quartet playing in the corner. The table was set for two in the center. Smells of baking bread and tomato sauce made her stomach rumble and her mouth water.

It was reminiscent of her favorite Italian restaurant back home, Magdaleno’s. They had the best veal parmigiana outside of Italy.

Unsure of herself, Brandy decided to sit at the table that was clearly meant for them. Treating this just like a date, she took the napkin and draped it across her lap, adjusting her clothes and hair. She wanted a mirror and a bag of expensive makeup, but she would have to make do.

The sweet sounds of the violin, cello, bass, and viola floated around her. She knew the instrumentalist were part of the simulation, but the music was soothing, as was the candlelight. Her shoulders relaxed. After picking up the wineglass, she took a sip. Real pinot grigio, not replicated, slipped down her throat. She hadn’t had alcohol since entering Han’s ship. The only intoxicant that ship had was smuggled on by Rahan, and his was unpredictable and strong. She took undignified gulps of Drake’s delicious floral liquid to take the edge off.

Drake returned a few minutes later in date-ready attire. The tailored suit would have cost thousands on earth. Navy blue with a crisp white shirt underneath, the fabric fit his muscular body like a glove. His hair was combed back and he’d shaved, appearing young and fresh without the stubble.

But his gait was awkward in the clothes. Sitting down across the table from her, he fussed with the starched collar and shrugged big shoulders before settling down.

They stared at each other for a while, not sure what to say.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, not really sounding like he cared for her answer.

“It’s an improvement for sure,” she said, lifting her empty wineglass, hoping it would refill.

Drake reached for the wine and refilled her glass. “This bottle was imported from your planet, not replicated. Wine is one of the things I like about humans.”

She smiled. “Wine is one of the things most people like about humans. That and bacon cheeseburgers.”

“Would you like one? A cheeseburger?” He arched an eyebrow.

Shaking her head, she gazed over. “I’d like to see what’s on the menu.”

“There’s no menu.” When he snapped his fingers, a waiter appeared, pushing a cart with two silver trays on it. The covers were removed with a flourish, and Brandy’s eyes widened. The food appeared as delicious as she was hoping it would be—one plate full of chicken scaloppini, risotto in a buttery cream sauce, and giant prawns on a salad drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette.

Drake grabbed a thick steak from the other, and began devouring hunks. Brandy selected her dish. She lost herself in the flavor. It was so buttery and delicious she made an audible noise.

His eyes darted up at her.

“Sorry.” She put her hand to her mouth, almost giggling. “It’s so good.”

Surprise lightened his expression. “Food gives you that much pleasure?”

She shrugged, finally nodding. “We were poor when I was little, so I didn’t have a lot of choice in food—peanut butter sandwiches, butter noodles, that sort of thing. Now, I get excited about really good food. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to stay on Han’s ship.”

“Try this,” he said, cutting a bite of steak and offering it to her.

Carefully, she bit the morsel off his fork. It was a strangely intimate gesture. As she chewed, her brain lit up with excitement again. “Damn, that’s good.”

He smiled. It was strange to see him almost happy.

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