“Lachlan.” I turn to see Justine walking toward me. As usual she’s dressed to impress, her simple red dress clinging to her long, lean curves. Her chocolate hair is piled high on her head, showing off stunning cheekbones.
Being a gentleman, I hold out my arm for her. “You look beautiful,” I tell her honestly.
She takes my arm and shoots me a coy smile. “You know, this is our third date and I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I nod, pressing my lips together before I say, “I call it as I see it.”
We don’t wait in line and instead go straight to the hostess who seats us right away. I guess Justine really does have a lot of power in this city. We get a secluded table in the corner where candles flicker in the dim light. Though the restaurant has this sparse, industrial vibe, there’s no denying that it’s romantic.
At least, it’s supposed to be romantic. And as we order the wine and look over the menu, I know that’s all that’s on Justine’s mind. She shoots me flirtatious glances over the menu and her foot brushes up against my leg more than once. Though she’s very demure about it all, there’s no question what she wants.
“So how was your day?” she asks me. I can tell she’s just trying to make conversation.
“It was fine,” I tell her, and mentally decide to get the ribeye, even if it comes with some kind of weird South American green sauce.
“You know, Lachlan,” she says, swirling her glass of shiraz around, “I don’t think I know a thing about you. Even still.”
Frowning, I glance at her briefly. “There isn’t much to know.”
“No? It’s hard to tell. You don’t say very much. You’re very quiet.”
There’s nothing I hate more than having to hear that. I lean back in the chair and stare at her for a few beats. “I only speak when I have something to say.”
She stares right back until I can see she’s getting uncomfortable. She looks away and then brings on that big white smile. “Luckily I like the strong, silent type.”
I’ve heard that before. They all say that. None of them mean it.
“But,” she goes on, “you know a lot about me.”
That’s because you don’t ever shut up, I think.
“Tell me about your childhood,” she says innocently. “Your past.”
A sour taste fills my mouth. I take a sip of wine and a deep breath. I can’t help but give her a hard look. “My past belongs to me and no one else,” I say, my voice sounding rougher than I mean it to.
She’s taken aback. “Oh.” She looks down at her hands.
“That’s what I always say,” I add quickly, remembering what an arse I was earlier in the day to Kayla, who also didn’t mean any harm. “The future is a more interesting topic. Don’t you think?”
Now she’s grinning bashfully, brushing a piece of hair off her face. I know she thinks that I’m talking about her and our future together, when nothing could be further from the truth. So I take the opportunity to talk about Bram and the housing project, and my hopes that we can make the future bright for so many others.
It seems to work. For once she seems to listen, maybe because for once I’m actually talking. Maybe if I had just opened my mouth on the first date, there wouldn’t have had to be three.
“I’ll tell you what,” Justine says to me when we’re finished with our dessert. “There’s an event coming up next Monday, a cocktail party. Daddy will be there. I could introduce you two, and maybe he can help with the apartment. Sometimes he feels…what’s the word?”
“Philanthropic,” I suggest.
“Sure,” she says, and from the look in her eyes I’m wondering if she knows what the word means. “Are you interested?”
I give her a lopsided smile. “Most definitely.”