Page 30 of Her Dirty Secret
We walk the few blocks in silence. I’ve been to the café a few times, but it’s not a place I go often. It seems a bit laidback for our formal attire, but I can’t argue that the wine is fantastic. We order a few appetizers as well, and the stare-off begins.
“So, this is awkward.”
He chuckles. “There you go, saying what’s on your mind again.”
I shrug. “How’s work? Everything okay with whatever made you cut your vacation short?”
“It will be fine,” he replies with a note of annoyance in his voice. “Running your own business is not without its sacrifices. Though I had hoped for more of a break. Perhaps once things have died down a bit more. How is work for you?”
My eyes drop to my lap. “I quit.”
“You quit?” His shocked tone is enough to make me look back up at him. “I thought you loved working there.”
I chew on my upper lip and take a sip of wine. “Things change.”
“In three weeks?” he asks.
I glare back at him defiantly. “Yes.”
“Why did you quit, Emily?”
I jut my chin out. “It’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life.”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “And have you decided what you do want to do for the rest of your life, then?” A hint of a smile plays around his mouth.
I tug at my hair. “Not exactly.”
“I see.” He tilts his head and gives me an appraising look. “With your talent and your intelligence, Cara Mia, you could do whatever you want. I hope you know that.”
This time I don’t stop the eye roll. “You’ve barely heard me play.”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I know talent when I see it.”
“Are you always so blindly positive?” I grouse.
“I can be a negative asshole, if you’d prefer.”
And I can’t help it, it makes me laugh.
He smiles, clearly pleased to see me lightening up. I decide to at least try not to be such a sourpuss. But he just brings emotions out in me I can’t control sometimes.
“Do you like classical music?” he asks as our appetizers are delivered.
“Of course,” I reply.
“Good,” he replies, digging in with a smile.
“Why?” I ask, suddenly suspicious.
“Because we’re going to the symphony tonight.”
My eyes go wide. “Seriously?”
He laughs. “Seriously. Is that okay?”
I blink hard, willing myself not to tear up. I’ve dated enough musicians to start a freaking orchestra, but not a single one has ever taken me to the symphony. Dingy little hole-in-the-wall clubs, sure. But never anything as overwhelmingly moving, or pricey, as the symphony. I’ve only been a handful of times with my parents.
I watch him as he continues eating, suddenly unsure that I can resist him if he’s going to pull out all the stops like this.