Laney I n Gwen’s open-conc ept apartment over the Pilates studio, I watched my friend pull a bunch of dresses out of her closet for me to choose from. I sat on her bed, picking at the massive rollers in my hair and seriously questioning my sanity for getting dressed up for this dinner. Ultimately, however, if Sterling was offering a way for us to work together that didn’t ruin the business my family had started so many years ago, then I was going to have to suck it up, let Gwen make me look decent, and go to eat some fancy food. “Do you really think he might help you save it?” she asked as she held up a slip of a little black dress and almost immediately dropped it in her no pile. “Everything I’ve read about him says this is highly unusual, and in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve read everything about him I’ve been able to get my hands on.” “I know.” I fidgeted with another roller. “I haven’t wanted to do too much reading because I can’t afford to get too intimidated, but it doesn’t look like he does this often. I have managed to find a few businesses he’s k ept going though, so maybe. I just don’t know.” Gwen ran her gaze over a purple mini-dress and grinned as she turned to me. “This might be the one, and don’t you dare say no until you’ve tried it on.” I eyed the scrap of material and shook my head. “This is Sterling Westwood I’m going to dinner with. If I wear that, people will think I’m a high-end escort he hired for the night.” She laughed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. The kind of place he goes to probably judges people if their asses are hanging out. Any idea where he’s taking you or what you’re expected to wear?” I shook my head and playfully batted my lashes at her. “What does one wear when sharing a meal with local royalty?” “Hot local royalty,” she correctly lightly, turning back to her closet. “Is he as much of a jerk as you thought he was? You’ve spent some time with him now, right, so what’s he really like?” “He’s more of a jerk than I thought he was, but you’re not wrong about him being hot.” Devastatingly so, actually. Just because I hated him didn’t mean I was blind—and Sterling Westwood was objectively freaking gorgeous. Those eyes were bluer than blue, the way he carried himself speaking of generations of authority, and confidence, and command. When I’d first seen him that day on the street, I’d thought his hair was black, but I’d realized yesterday in the store that it wasn’t. Not completely. When the light hit it just right, there was glimmer of gold in the strands that hinted at a rich, de ep brown. His cheekbones and jawline deserved their own places in the Hall of Fame and those broad shoulders? Whew, they would really give a girl something to hang onto. Gwen chuckled and pretended to fan herself. “Do you know there’s a Facebook page dedicated to his ass? It’s all just pictures of him from behind and GIFs of him being spanked.”
“God, the things he’d do to anyone who tried to spank him, but I understand the instinct.” I giggled, but I seriously felt the person who had created that page. It was a pretty great ass, all tight and toned. On the other hand, it was his eyes I’d found myself hung up on ever since his unexpected visit yesterday. More specifically, the little sparkle that had been in them when he’d looked at me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Hot as he might be, just don’t go to bed with him after dinner,” Gwen said, wagging a finger at me. She pulled a navy-blue, knee-length cocktail dress from the closet. “Do you hear me, young lady? It’s not proper to bang a prince on the first date.” I burst out laughing. “I don’t know who you were trying to imitate there, but it didn’t work. Besides, on what planet would that ever happen? I’ve seen pictures of that dude with literal princesses and he seems to hang out exclusively with people who have been beaten with the beauty stick.” Gwen smirked. “You might’ve met your match, Laney Rhodes, even if you just don’t know it yet. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a knockout.” My nose wrinkled. “I’m cute in a girl-down-the-street sort of way. Even the girls-next-door always wind up being too hot. I’m not like them.” “No, this isn’t like you.” She rolled her eyes so hard, she should’ve done some stretches first. “Do not, I r epeat, do not let him get to you like this. You’re gorgeous and you know it. So what if he’s got money? Forget everything I said about his family and treat him like you do everyone else. More importantly, remember your own worth.” I nodded, drawing in a de ep breath and letting her words wash over me like I was taking a bath in confidence. Gwen was right. I was perfectly fine looking. No crooked teeth or wonky nose—and it didn’t matter what I looked like anyway. This wasn’t a date; it was a meeting. I had already been treating him like I treated everyone else and I wouldn’t stop now. Not even if he did sort of hold my future in his strong, well-manicured hands. She thrust the navy dress at me. “Say yes to it. This is the one.” I let my gaze roam over the soft lace overlay and the cute cap sleeves, and then I nodded. “Yes, dress. I pick you.” Gwen squealed and handed it over, and thirty minutes later, I left her apartment with a beautiful blow-out and wearing borrowed heels with her dress. Ready for action, I went back to the store and did some work on my laptop, anxious for the moment to arrive when Sterling would pick me up. Precisely on time, there was a knock on the door and I found myself smiling. Look at that. A business partner who knows how to read a clock. I got up, but when I opened the door, a man I didn’t know was standing on the other side. He wore a black suit—with a freaking hat in his hands like this was colonial England. “Ms. Rhodes? My name is Steve. Mr. Westwood sent me to collect you. He’s been held up in a meeting and he didn’t want you to wait.” So he sent a driver to pick me up? Fabulous. What a pompous prick. Like I’m just some errand to run. Like I’m his dry cleaning.
Since it wasn’t Steve’s fault that his boss was an asshole, I offered him a polite smile. “Thanks. Let me just grab my purse.” He inclined his chin in a nod. Once I left the shop, he was already waiting with the door of a black town car open. A little ticked off by being sent for like a takeout order, I climbed into the car and leaned forward once Steve was behind the wheel. “Is Sterling planning on murdering me?” I asked. “Or worse, is he part of the Illuminati and I’m going to be sacrificed and eaten?” Steve laughed as he eased us away from the curb. “It doesn’t sound like you’re going to believe this, but he’s really not so bad.” “You still didn’t say no,” I grumbled. “That means murder and being eaten is still an option.” “It’s not,” he assured me, smiling as his gaze met mine in the rearview mirror. “Quite the opposite, actually. I’ve been asked to take you to Luna’s.” “Luna’s?” I frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.” “Because you’re not supposed to,” he explained. “It’s like Rao’s in New York. They don’t allow reservations or walk-ins. You have to know someone with a standing or long-time reservation to get in.” I sighed and glanced down at myself, relieved that Gwen and I had chosen a beautiful but conservative dress for the occasion. When Steve pulled up outside a somewhat dingy-looking Italian restaurant though, I revisited my Illuminati suspicions. The place was little more than a heavy wooden door in a rather neglected-looking wall. Steve walked me to it, smiling and once again reassuring me that I wasn’t about to be murdered. “Enjoy your evening, Ms. Rhodes.” “Thanks, Steve,” I muttered. “You too.” Before I could even knock, the door swung open and I was met with an older man on the other side. “Ms. Rhodes, I assume?” I gaped at him. “How did you know?” “Steve.” He nodded at the driver who was walking away and it dawned on me that somehow, even from behind the closed door, he’d seen me with the other man. Man, rich people are weird. I sighed but nodded. “Westwood, party of two?” The older guy sw ept a hand out ahead of him and I walked in, surprised by how luxurious the interior was given the state of the exterior. A dimly lit dining room stretched out ahead of me. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and a plush carpet welcomed my feet. Almost every table was full. The low hum of chatter and laughter drifted through the air. Classical music flowed from the speakers and the scent of garlic wafted to me. My stomach rumbled and I desperately hoped no one else heard it. “Ms. Rhodes.” A young woman, probably around my age, appeared at my side and smiled, motioning for me to follow her. “Let me show you to the bar. Mr. Westwood will be here shortly.” Of course, he’s communicated with everyone exc ept the person he’s supposed to be meeting with. Splendid. Just fucking peachy.
I nodded at the woman, though. It wasn’t her fault either. “Thank you. And maybe you could rustle me up some breadsticks while I wait?” “No breadsticks but I can grab you a fresh loaf out of the oven.” I grinned at her. “My hero.” At the bar along the far wall that had probably seen deals being made between presidents and dignitaries, I ordered a glass of wine and forced myself to inhale a calming breath. The woman brought me some steaming bread with olive oil drizzled on it. “Good luck,” she told me before heading off. The bread was divine and it helped settle my nervous stomach a little. Why had the woman wished me luck, though? Did she know something I didn’t? That seemed to be the running theme of the whole evening. A couple minutes later, I heard Sterling’s name. To my annoyance, goosebumps broke out across my skin at the sight of him in an impeccably tailored dove gray suit, the longer bit of the dark hair on top of his head styled neatly out of his face. As he moved through the room, he commanded the attention of everyone in it, shaking hands and greeting people as he walked past. An unwelcome jolt of attraction shot through me as I watched him, so intense that I had to press my thighs together to relieve the ache. Those glacier-blue eyes were on mine, and it seemed that was all it took for the electricity to hum to life beneath my skin. He smirked slightly as he held my gaze, like he knew that he was affecting me, and I scowled in response. He shook hands with a crowd of what looked like mob bosses. They were all dressed in suits with golden chains. So he’s in the mafia then, huh? Wow. Megan really threw me to the sharks, that bitch. When he finally reached my side, his gaze raked over me slowly, very openly, but when he brought it back to mine, I couldn’t tell at all what he thought about what he’d just looked at. “Thank you for waiting, Laney. I apologize for my delay. It couldn’t be helped, I’m afraid. Steve treated you well?” “Sure.” Why? What are you going to do to him if he didn’t? Send him to sle ep with the fishes? “Don’t worry about it.” He chuckled, and I was pretty sure it was the first time I was hearing him do it, but I liked the low, smooth sound way more than I should’ve. He extended a hand toward me. “Let me show you to my table.” “Your table?” I didn’t acc ept his hand, sliding off my chair perfectly fine myself. I was about to scoff and tell him that the table belonged to the restaurant, not him, but he saved me from making a complete fool of myself by giving me an unexpected explanation. “Well, I suppose it’s not mine. I don’t own it, but they do always ke ep it open for me. I eat here a few times a week and they’re kind enough to ke ep it free in case I need it.” Right. Right, right, right. Okay, then. He took me to a table tucked into a private alcove in the corner and even got my chair, gracefully sliding it toward him and waiting for me to sit down. Once I was seated, he walked around to take a seat directly opposite me. Staring straight at his face was hard, kind of like looking into the sun, exc ept that this didn’t make my eyes water. It did cause a rush of moisture in other parts of my body, though.
I cleared my throat, waiting for him to lay out his plan for us to work together, but instead, Sterling asked a server for a bottle of wine and glanced at me. “Would you mind if I ordered our appetizers? There are some dishes here that you have to try.” Surprised that he’d even asked, I nodded, deciding that while I was here, I might as well make the best of it. “I doubt I’d understand a word on the menu anyway.” The corners of his lips twitched, making it look like he’d almost smiled. Not quite, but it was nice to know his mouth knew how to make the shape. “The menu is in English.” “Oh.” “Y ep.” The server brought our wine and poured a tiny bit in a glass for Sterling to taste, and when he nodded at her, she poured us each a glass before he ordered our appetizers. With that done, he turned back to me. “You clean up nice, Laney. Truly. You look beautiful this evening.” Something de ep inside me fluttered. “Uh, thanks. You look the same as always.” “Thank you, I think.” He stared back at me, completely confident and at ease in our opulent surroundings. “Do you like the wine?” I grabbed my glass and took a big sip, realizing that I’d left the wine I’d ordered at the bar without even finishing it, along with my bread. Tragic. “This is the best Chianti I’ve ever tasted.” I wasn’t even lying. “Wow. Where’s it from?” “It’s imported from Tuscany.” Interest sparked to life behind his eyes. “You know it’s a Chianti?” I pursed my lips at him in an attempt to hide my smile, glad to have surprised him for a change. “Of course, I know it’s a Chianti. Although I thought it might be one of those Chianti-wannabes, but I was even called a wine snob once.” “Just the once?” He arched a dark eyebrow at me, swirling his own wine in his glass. I shrugged. “Just the once, but I’m still young. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me.” “That’s a perfectly valid life goal, I suppose, to be called a wine snob again.” I lifted my glass slightly to him. “Thank you, and cheers.” “Cheers.” We clinked our glasses together and chatted for another little while until the server brought our appetizers, along with another basket of bread. I cheered silently. By the time he finally got down to business, I’d let my guard down a little. The food was amazing. The wine was delicious—and Steve might’ve been right about Sterling. He wasn’t that bad. “Why does Baby Blossom mean so much to you?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. “I was being truthful when I said I might not take it apart, but first, I’d like to know more about it.” “Okay, well, I guess it’s because family and tradition mean something to me,” I said honestly. “That store has been in my father’s family for eighty years and I don’t want to be the generation that destroys that tradition.” He seemed to like that, his eyebrows swe eping up slightly as he nodded. I decided I might as well ke ep telling the truth. “Plus, I’ve also... always wanted to be a mom and this is about as close as I’ve gotten”
Crap. I didn’t mean to be that truthful. My eyes blew wide open. I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud, so very directly, but I also couldn’t just stop there. I could not let that sit between us, so I rambled on, desperately trying to undo the damage I’d just done to my own fragile ego. “All I mean is that I don’t date. I never have time, and honestly, I just don’t like it. Having to ask some guy what his favorite color is or whether he goes to therapy, and what for, is awful. I mean, are you fighting serial killer tendencies or do you just have daddy issues? I never know.” Sterling smiled at me, actually smiled, and I nearly fell off my chair when he followed it up by agreeing. “I feel the exact same way. I’d like to continue that conversation another time.” I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but since he carried on from there as if he really did plan on ke eping Baby Blossom open, I didn’t see another option but to continue whatever conversation he wanted. I was at his mercy, and as that realization fully dawned, I drained my wine. What exactly are the implications of that going to be? “You said you were planning on going to LA to scout for options for a second location?” he asked after a few more questions about the business. “Are you still planning on doing that?” I nodded. “Good. I’ll come with you. We’ll travel together and my office will handle the details. I’ll have them emailed to you. Does that sound good?” No, but I really don’t have much of a choice, do I? If I said yes, I had a chance of not only saving Baby Blossom, but finally expanding to a different city, but if I said no, Sterling and his beautiful blue eyes and commanding presence would take it all and just... make it go away.