Page 26 of Ivory Obsession
“Okay,” I finally agreed, the word slipping out before my more cautious side could protest. His smile deepened, both triumphant and genuine, and something inside me fluttered in response.
“Great,” Dante said. “I’ll pick you up at seven on Thursday.”
“Thursday,” I echoed, locking away my doubts and uncertainties for another time. There was no turning back now—I had stepped into Dante’s world, and only time would tell if the risk was worth the enigmatic promise of ‘us.’
And if things went wrong…well, fuck it. This was just a bit of fun. It didn’t have to spiral.
I wasn’t going to let it.
Chapter Eleven: Jade
The crisp autumn air nipped at my skin, a sharp reminder of the city’s transition into night. I waited, my breath forming small clouds before me, when the purr of an engine approached. A black car slid to a stop in front of my building, its gleam like a slice of night itself.
Dante Moretti emerged from the vehicle, his suit a shadow against the dimming light of dusk. He strode towards me with a confidence that made my heart do strange things. “Evening, Jade,” he greeted, his voice as smooth as the silk lining of his jacket.
“Hey,” I managed, feeling suddenly underdressed in my simple blouse and skirt. His smile was disarmingly charming, and when he offered his hand, it felt like a lifeline in a sea of unease. The touch of his palm was warm against mine, and the way he guided me with a hand at my lower back sent an unfamiliar thrill through me.
We slipped into the car, and Dante didn’t waste time starting up a conversation as we merged into the traffic. He told me stories about New York – quirky tales of the people and places that made up its heart. It wasn’t long before laughter softened the growing tension between our bodies, filling the space with something that felt dangerously close to comfort.
“Did you know Central Park has its own zoo?” he asked, glancing at me with a playful smirk.
“Really? In all my years here, I never stumbled upon it,” I said, feigning surprise, though I’d spent countless lunch breaks wandering those paths.
“Maybe one day, I’ll have to show you. There’s more hidden in this city than you think.” He winked, and I rolled my eyes, but my lips betrayed me with a smile.
“Is that a promise or a threat, Mr. Moretti?”
“Depends on how much you enjoy surprises,” he shot back, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile that did things to my insides.
Our banter wove through the drive like the city lights streaking past the tinted windows. With every laugh, the walls I had meticulously built around myself seemed to crumble just a little bit more. And though part of me screamed caution, the rest of me was already too far gone, lost in the dark allure of Dante Moretti’s world.
The car pulled up to a discrete entrance, the kind of place you wouldn’t notice unless you knew it was there. Dante stepped out first, reaching a hand out to help me from the vehicle. His touch sent an unmistakable jolt through me as I accepted it, stepping into the chill of the autumn evening.
“Welcome to Il Nascondiglio,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it felt like it was meant for my ears only. The restaurant’s name, ‘The Hideaway,’ seemed more than fitting given its secretive vibe.
We entered through a velvet curtain, and I was immediately enveloped by the warmth of the intimate space. Soft music played in the background, a gentle melody that wrapped around us as we were led to our secluded booth. Dante pulled out the chair for me, and as I sat down, his fingers grazed the small of my back, leaving a trail of heat on my skin.
“Thank you,” I managed, trying to ignore how his simple gesture had quickened my heartbeat.
“Anything for you,” he replied, and there was something in his tone—a hint of sincerity—that caught me off guard.
A waiter appeared as if summoned by our readiness to begin, presenting us with menus and taking our drink orders. Dante suggested a bottle of red that he promised would “change my life.”
“Bold claim,” I challenged, arching an eyebrow.
“Trust me, Jade,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “When it comes to wine—and a few other things—I never disappoint.”
Our dinner unfolded with an ease that surprised me. We talked about everything from my latest research breakthroughs, at least as much as I could tell him, to his genuine love for classic literature, a side of him I hadn’t expected. With each shared story and laugh, I began to see the man across from me as Dante, just Dante.
“Tell me about your work,” he urged, his gaze never straying as he took a thoughtful sip of his wine.
I delved into the complexities of biotechnology, explaining the potential impact of my current project. He listened intently, his interest seeming to go beyond polite dinner conversation. It was disconcerting and flattering all at once.
“Sounds like you’re on the verge of changing the world,” he noted, admiration lacing his words. “I know I promised not to talk about work, but my offer stands.”
“I know. And, about changing it…I don’t know. Maybe just a small corner of it,” I demurred, feeling the weight of his attention like a physical touch.
“Modesty doesn’t suit you,” he teased lightly, but his smile told me he meant it. “You should own your brilliance, Jade. It’s... captivating.”