Page 21 of Shattered Diamonds

She goes silent once again. Ruminating over my statement.

Our dinners are placed on the table before she can question my declaration. We’re silent while we fix our meals. I can see she is interested, her attention is far off while she manipulates the food on her plate. She has questions she refuses to make light of. The tension she holds in her shoulders is tangible.

I place my fork down and lift my napkin, cleaning my mouth, and giving her my undivided attention. “Haven.” I wait for her to acknowledge me. “Relax. If you do not want to be here in my company, I’ll have Luca take you home and we will call the bet even. I do not want to share a meal with someone who does not want to be in my presence.”

She places her fork down, takes a sip of her second glass of wine, and admits, “I am here to pay my debt, but I don’t want to go home either. My apologies for my behavior. You are correct it was juvenile of me. That is not my usual character.”

“Then tell me who you are. Tell me why you are so tense so that I can fix it.”

“It was the dress. It pissed me off. Like I wasn’t good enough. Men like you… I bet you buy all your women clothing,” she rebukes with a slight grimacing twist to her full lips. “It made me mad, thinking I would just be another.”

“You will be another. To clarify, I have never stepped inside Heart’s Desire before today,” I truthfully tell her.

Her satisfied half-grin leads me to believe she has won some kind of internal battle. “I didn’t say I never purchased anything from there before.” I watch the light in her eyes extinguish when both my comment on how she will be just another and the fact that I have bought from Sofia’s boutique before.

Her huff is strong enough to rock her head back and forth. She looks off to the side and a shadow of something I don’t like seeing fills her face.

“I will always tell you the truth, Haven. No matter how harsh it is.”

“You make it sound like there will be more dates after tonight.”

“There will be.”

She twists her head in astonishment. “Cocky much?”

“Are you telling me there won’t be?” I give her a lift of my lip. “I’m quite sure after our first initial introduction you would have stayed clear. You didn’t.”

“Is it just a boutique for women?” she rushes out, asking.

I nod, watching her, waiting to read her expression.

“Want to place another bet?” Her smirk, it’s cocky, like what she is going to wager will effectively end our date.

“You’re willing to gamble again?” I goad, my face a sheet of ice. “The terms this time will be something that you might not be able to handle,” I explain, resting my hand on the table, my middle finger sliding back and forth over the serrated edge of my steak knife.

I can see the challenge in her eyes.

“What’s the wager?” she presses with suspicion.

“IfIwin, you spend the night with me. Ifyouwin, I will have Luca drive you home and your debt will be considered paid in full.” I wait a beat to say, “If that is what you wish.”

She looks off, staring out the window at an SUV parked along the side street catty-corner to the restaurant. I noticed it pull up. Just like I am aware of the gentleman to my right who keeps staring at my dinner date with drool on his chin. I find it irritably odd that her attention keeps floating back to the vehicle. I pick up my phone and type out a message to Luca, instructing him to find out who it is sitting in said SUV that is stealing her interest from me.

“If I lose,” she continues, turning back. “I will finish out the night, repaying my debt to you from the lost wager with a smile, although let it be known, it will be a fictitious one, but at least my debt will be repaid, and I won’t be known as the girl who doesn’t pay up. But I will not spend the entire night with you.”

I watch her. Analyzing her. Criticizing the evening and where it went wrong. There is heavy animosity exuding from her. A bitterness I haven’t quite deciphered why it has reared its ugly head. She was sassy and gleefully sexy when she arrived. Now the air is thick with tension.

“What’s your bet?” I sit back in my seat and slowly stroke the thick black hair around my jaw.

“I bet I was the largest size you have ever purchased from that boutique.”

I don’t answer right away. I let her statement, because that is essentially what it is, settle between us. “The largest price tag, yes. If that makes you happy.”

“It doesn’t. I have money.” She looks off again after crumbling her napkin and tossing it on the table. “I could have bought it myself.”

“Yours or your allowance from your brother?” My tone reflects as if she should be ashamed of his generosity but it’s only to get her attention back on me.

“My trust, if you must know,” she snaps after she almost breaks her neck coming back to focus on me. My phone chimes. Joseph’s message comes through loud and clear.

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