Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Yes. Steak for me too. Make mine well done, Carly,” I say, holding the menu out to her. I smile wide as her lips curve downward in the corners. I’ll eat dinner, then go to the bathroom while he pays the check. Slip out then.
She looks at the menu, then at Zeke, who nods. I didn’t think I needed permission to order my dinner but okay.
“And a big plate of fries with extra ketchup.” I turn to Zeke. “I’m not sharing. You’d better get your own.”
He gives me a look but seems amused. “No fries for me. Bring her a vegetable too, will you? Steamed broccoli, I think.”
I curl my lip although I don’t mind broccoli. Carly takes the menus and Zeke orders a bottle of red.
“That’s a lot of food,” he says once Carly’s gone.
“You’re the one who ordered the broccoli.”
“You need something green.”
“Thanks for looking out for me. And, well, if you’re paying, I may as well eat. Do you know how much a steak here costs?” I ask, looking around, taking in all the diners in their fancy clothes.
I tug the sleeves of my sweater down. I don’t belong here.
“Does it intimidate you?”
“Hm? What?” I ask, turning to him.
“Does this place intimidate you?”
“No, I just think it’s a waste. You can buy groceries for three weeks on the cost of one dinner and you don’t have to deal with women like Carly. Although maybe you like women like Carly.”
“Actually, I find them boring.”
“Also that whole ordering for me? Seriously, do you get dates? Ever? Acting like that?”
“You’d be surprised.” He takes a sip of water. “And you need red meat. Your iron’s low.”
“Pardon?”
“Bloodwork is back. It’s probably why you have your dizzy spells.”
That has me turning all my attention to him. “What?”
“Dizzy spells. Doctor thought it might be related.”
“Is that what you were talking about when you left the room? My dizzy spells?”
He nods like it’s normal but maybe for a man like him, a Society man, it is. A waiter arrives with rolls and butter, and another comes carrying a bottle of wine and two giant glasses. He pops the cork and pours for Zeke, talking some pretentious bullshit about the wine’s origins as Zeke tastes it and gives his nod of approval. He pours for both of us and then leaves the bottle.
I pick up a roll and butter it. “It’s not an iron deficiency.”
“You are iron deficient.”
“I can’t normally afford steak.” I pop bread into my mouth.
“I didn’t realize you were medically trained.”
“True, but that’s not it.”
“What is it then?”
I eat another bite of bread, not sure why I said anything. I pick up the glass of wine and sip and OMG it’s good. Really good. I don’t know much about wine, apart from cheap and this is not that.
“Don’t chug it.”
I give him a look and take another deliberately big sip, but I won’t waste it. I set the glass down.
“You’re classy, Blue.”
“I don’t want to cramp your style so I can leave if you prefer,” I push my chair back and make to stand.
He sets his hand on my thigh, skin to skin contact sending a bolt of electricity through me again. Does he feel it too? He has too, right? It can’t just be me.
But I shouldn’t forget even though he’s the first man who’s ever touched me or been interested in me in that way, he’s probably had hundreds of women.
“Stay,” he commands in that quiet, low way of his that leaves no room for anything but obedience.
I clear my throat and stay.
“The dizziness,” he reminds me.
I shake my head to clear it and watch Carly lead another couple to their table. She glances at Zeke, and I look at him and I can see what she sees honestly. He’s handsome, no doubt. Very handsome. Sexy in that rich asshole kind of way some women like. Hell, maybe I like it a little too, stupid as it is. He doesn’t even glance her way, and I can admit she’s a lot better looking than I am.
Zeke’s gaze moves to my hand, and I realize I’m touching the scar on my face. I pull it away.
“My dad. The night he hurt Wren. I told you that he hit me, too. I didn’t only break the mirror with my face.” I point to the scar. “Bride of Frankenstein, remember? He smashed my head into the side of the tub. I don’t know how many times. I passed out and ever since then, it just happens. It happens more when I’m stressed. And weirdly a lot when I’m around you,” I tack on.
I have never told anyone this. Why am I telling him of all people? The bread I swallow sticks in my throat, and I gulp wine to wash it down.
“How did you take care of yourself and your sister? How did you afford it these last years?”