“I do,” Roxy murmurs before stomping her feet like a frustrated child. “Fuck, just tell me already!”
A grin curls the corner of my lips. “After work. I’ll take you out for dinner first. Think about it—we haven't had anything other than the club and the office.”
“Are you sure?” Roxy asks, and I nod. It’s been on my mind for a week. I want to take her out and treat her like a lady. “I mean, we probably shouldn’t fuel any suspicions.”
“Leave that to me. Be ready by eight, and wear something a princess might wear. I’ll be by to pick you up.”
She seems to melt at the promise of being wined and dined. “All right. But it had better be good.”
I smile, taking her hand and kissing it. “I promise, it will be.”
I pull up outside Roxy’s place right at eight o’clock. While I thought about hiring a driver for the night, I decided to give tonight a personal touch and drove myself instead. I’m glad, because as Roxy walks out, I’m stunned. She’s in a sparkling black gown, silver threaded through the fabric to create almost a waterfall effect. Her hair is sleek, her skin so enticing as she approaches me. She’s so beautiful that I can barely think, and I get out almost a beat late, coming around to the passenger side of my car and opening the door.
“You are truly a vision of beauty tonight,” I greet her, taking her satin gloved hand and helping her in. “You look like you’re ready for the red carpet.”
“You said dress like a princess, and when I dress up, I go all out,” Roxy says. “So thank you.”
I go around to my side and get in, still so drawn by her looks that she has to clear her throat and give me a raised eyebrow. “I hope you didn’t mean just getting dressed up to sit in the parking lot and make out. I don’t do back seats. Well, not anymore anyway.”
Her joke breaks my paralysis and sends blood to my cock, and I grin. The back seat—that sounds fun. But I turn my attention back to the road. “You’ll see.”
The drive takes a while. When I told her not to worry, I made sure of it. She’s giving me a look when we pull up and I hand my keys to the valet. “What’s this place?”
“An exclusive, private members-only restaurant,” I tell her, leading her through the plain, unmarked door. “We’re totally safe here.”
The ma?tre d’ checks my ID against the reservation list and seats us. As we make our way through the small, ten-table place, Roxy stops. “Is that . . . no way.”
I glance over, seeing who she’s talking about. “Kevin? Yeah, he’s a member. Now, one of the rules is that everyone in here is equal, so he’s just a guy.”
“Okay,” she says uncertainly. We sit down, and she looks around. “Wow. The decor here . . .”
“Is what gives the place class. This is one of those places where you get what the chef prepares. You just have to trust his judgment. But I checked the menu, and we’re getting surf and turf with matching wines. So enjoy.”
“Thank you,” Roxy says, sipping her water. “So, Jake—”
“You can ask me anything you want,” I say, cutting her off. “Come on, I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got a thousand and one questions about me. Now’s the time for them.”
“Well, okay,” Roxy says, blushing. I understand. We’ve been having sex for weeks, and while I know a lot about her, she’s not heard my story as much as she might like. “Well, you told me about your sister and how she came to live with you, but . . . well, you don’t strike me as a rich boy.”
“I’m not, if you mean whether I inherited my money,” I tell her. “My mother came from a rich family. But she met and fell in love with my dad, who was a working-class guy. They defied my grandfather to get married in Vegas, and there were a lot of hard feelings for a long time.”
“Hard feelings?” Roxy asks, and I laugh.
“Well, actually, hard feelings as in a fist fight between my father and grandfather.” I chuckle. “They buried the hatchet after I was born, but Dad was stubborn. He never let my grandfather shower me with gifts or anything like that. He did let Grandpa set up a college fund for me and for Sophie, and of course, his name helped open some doors.”
Roxy nods. “Sounds like John, my stepfather. When he and my mom got together, I could have just mooched off him, but I had some good role models. I mean, after my biological dad died, Mom had to make it on her own for a long time. It taught me to be independent. What about you? What drives you?”
“Sophie,” I say immediately. “Our parents died just after I finished college, and it pushed me. I mean, Dad always made sure I knew what a real day’s work was. I did plenty of afternoons splitting logs for the fireplace, mowing lawns, stuff like that. But when I was literally a month after graduation and suddenly, I’ve got a little sister to take care of . . . it made me grow up a lot faster.”
Roxy’s eyes tear up, and I tilt my head, worried. “Are you okay?”
She nods. “Just . . . I can hear it in your voice. You miss your parents.”
I stop and have to look down at the table. She’s right. “There are times I don’t like thinking about it. I try not to remember the hard times. I just try to remember the stuff they taught me. My dad taught me how to be a man. My mom . . . well, if I’m not a total asshole, that’s her doing.”
“Well thank you, Mrs. Stone, then,” Roxy says. “Because I think you’re anything but an asshole. Most of the time.”
I laugh. “Most of the time.”
“Oh, yeah. You know, if you want to meet an asshole, you should see my boss. Always making demands of me in the supply room, calling me into his office . . . total asshole.”
I chuckle. Our food comes, and it’s as delicious as I expected. As she chews the last bite of her seared scallop, she sets her knife and fork down, looking directly at me. “Jake, thank you for letting me in more.”
I reach across, taking her hand. “You’re worth it. You’re pretty special, you know that, right?”
She blinks. I know I touched her, and it takes her a moment before she grins. “Yeah, well, you just remember that or else I’ll break a high heel off in your ass!”
I laugh. “Come on, time for dessert.”
“Wait, we’re not having dessert here?”
“No, the real dessert,” I tell her, taking her by the hand again. We drive to Club Jasmine, where I lead her in through the back.
“Here we are.”
“What’s this?” she asks, eyeing the door that has a star with her name emblazoned across the center. It hasn’t quite dawned on her yet.
“Open the door and you’ll see.”
She looks at me, looking like her heart is suddenly racing, and opens the door. The breath escapes her lungs as the door swings open. “Ooh.”
We step into her new dressing room. It’s equipped with a high chair, mirrors, a professional vanity for hair and makeup, and a clothing rack that is already filled with show dresses. “I checked your size and got you an entire wardrobe. Of course, you can pick and choose what you want. Roxy, you may not be a star yet, but you will be, and you’re already a star in my eyes.”
“Oh, Jake . . .” she says as tears fill her eyes. “How?”
“I had the crew paint and do all this during the day so I could surprise you. It only took them two days. I couldn't wait to show it to you.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispers. She turns and pulls me into a tight embrace. “This is so sweet of you.”
“Wait, that isn’t all,” I tell her. “I have better news.”
Roxy pulls back, staring at me. “Don’t fuck with me. How can it get any better?”
I tell her about Nathan’s call and the talent scout coming Saturday, and her jaw drops. “You’re kidding, right?” I shake my head. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it, darling, because it’s happening. You’ve got a shot.”