Page 8 of Beginnings By the Sea

I took a sip of my wine. “Your mention of Dalton. Are you seriously talking about Road House?”

Smirking, Cohen cocked his head to the side. “You’ve seen the movie?”

I laughed. “Only like a million times. It’s one of my favorites.”

Cohen chuckled. “It’s one of mine, too.” He drank more of his wine. “I think we’re going to have more in common than you think, Nyla.”

“What makes you think I had doubts?” I wondered.

Cohen lifted a shoulder, and his gaze narrowed curiously. “I remember what you said to me the other day at The Beachcomber You said you could spot a city boy from a mile away. That doesn’t exactly make me think it was a compliment.”

My cheeks burned. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just most of the city guys I’ve dated turned out to be self-absorbed, arrogant jerks who lived off their parent’s money. They were also very whiney. But,” I added, smiling at him, “you proved you weren’t the latter by enduring those stitches today without anesthetic. I’m impressed.”

Cohen chuckled and finished off his glass of wine. “Good. I’m glad I could change your perception of me.”

I waved a hand at his clothes. “Oh, and there’s also how you were dressed today,” I confessed. “Even though you were covered in blood, you looked normal in your jeans and T-shirt.”

He slipped out of his suit jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. “And in my suit? What does that make me look like?”

I smiled. “Fancy and rich. I read the article about you in the town paper. You’re pretty much royalty in New York.”

His smile faded slightly. “I was hoping no one would read that story.”

“Why?” I questioned curiously.

He blew out a sigh and looked away. “Because sometimes it’s not easy having true relationships when money is involved. I never know if I’m wanted for who I am or because I’m wealthy.”

Grinning, I sipped my wine, savoring its complexity and warmth. “If you have to worry about that, I’m afraid you’re hanging out with the wrong people.”

In my mind, I pictured the smiling faces of my friends in Oak Island—there was Trisha, who had an infectious laugh, and Michelle, who always had something positive to say. Then, there was Everleigh, my best friend and business partner who I loved dearly.

Cohen smiled sadly. “You make it sound so simple.”

I shrugged. “That’s because it is. But then again, I’m not in your shoes. It’s easy for me to say that.”

The server arrived with our dinner plates and placed them in front of us; my steak was cooked to perfection with a lightly charred crust, and the broccoli was roasted to bring out its nutty flavor with just enough garlic added to enhance its taste. Cohen thanked the server politely, and I couldn’t help but smile at his good manners. He seemed too good to be true, but I had faith in my judgment.

As I cut into my steak, releasing its tantalizing smell, Cohen watched me with a smirk on his face as I enjoyed the first few bites.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, taking another heavenly bite of steak.

Cohen shook his head and laughed quietly. “Nothing. I’m not used to seeing women enjoy their food like you do.”

“Ah, I see,” I said slowly, understanding why he found me amusing; he probably was used to thin-bodied socialites who only picked at their meals. Although I did care about my weight and was active, I loved treating myself now and again, mostly with cakes and cookies. “I’m assuming I’m not like the typical woman you’d take out in New York?” I questioned inquisitively.

Cohen chuckled. “No, but I firmly believe that’s been my problem. There was nobody like you there to meet.”

My cheeks burned and I smiled. “I highly doubt that. There are tons of amazing women in this world. Just like I know there are good men. I never really thought much about fate, but if you’re meant to cross paths with someone, it’ll happen.”

Cohen’s lips pulled back. “So, you’re saying we were meant to meet?”

Nodding, I took another bite of steak. “Exactly. And now, the rest is up to us.”

He leaned forward, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “I like the sound of that. For starters, do you think you could help me out with something?”

My curiosity was piqued. “With what?”

His eyes dropped to his food, and he grinned. “The other day when I first met you, I asked if you could give me tips on how to become accepted as a local.” His focused his gaze to my face, his expression sincere. “I want to fit in here. What do I have to do?”

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