“I don’t mean to be presumptuous. It’s just . . . You look like you could use something a little stiffer than a latte,” he observed, evidently reading me all too well.
My cheeks flushed at his provocative tone, and before I could stop myself, I felt my eyes wandering down to his tight jeans, realizing it’d been far too long since I’d had something . . . stiff.
His laugh drew my attention back up, and he raised his eyebrows in amusement having caught my roving gaze.
“I . . . I . . .” I stammered like an idiot before sucking my lower lip in between my teeth, urging myself to snap out of it.
“I’m doing this all wrong,” he said, pulling the chair across from me out and sitting down. “It’s just . . . I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you walked in, and, well, you look like you could use a friend.”
As I finally found my tongue, it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “A friend?” I asked, causing him to smirk.
“For starters,” he admitted, and it warmed me to know that perhaps friendship wasn’t the only thing on the table today. He leaned closer, his eyes softening as he studied me. His scrutiny was unnerving, causing me to squirm in my chair. “You look sad, beautiful girl. I’m a sucker for sad eyes. And beautiful girls. It tells me there’s a story there. As I watched you, I found myself wanting to know yours.”
“It’s a long one,” I told him, not really wanting to discuss me or my disastrous life with this handsome stranger.
“Luckily for us, I have all the time in the world,” he informed me. His jaw clenched as he drummed his fingers on the table, but he evidently read my hesitancy and didn’t push the subject. “Now, about that drink?”
As much as I wanted to jump up and scream, “Yes!” ready to agree to just about anything he wanted, I tried to keep my cool. “Don’t you think it’s a little early?”
“Ah, it’s never too early to indulge, but perhaps you’d rather meet later.” He stood, and a wave of disappointment set in all over again until he pulled a business card out of his back pocket and quickly wrote an address on the back. Then he handed it to me. “That address. Nine o’clock. Just drinks and dancing, beautiful girl. I want to be the man to wipe the sadness from your eyes. Please, let me be that man for you,” he whispered almost reverently. I believed him instantly.
With that, he pushed back from the table and strode out the door, not even waiting for my response. I watched him leave before looking down, finally seeing his name.
Adrian Morningstar. Morningstar Professional Investments and Procurements.
Putting a name with his face made it seem so much easier to agree to meet for a drink, and then I realized he hadn’t gotten mine.
“Wait,” I called after him, even though he’d already gone out the door.
I jumped up, slid my laptop into my messenger bag, and followed after him. My chest was heaving when I finally reached him. He turned, an amused look on his face, almost as if he’d been expecting me.
“Don’t you want to know my name, Adrian?” I asked, his name sounding exotic and enticing when it came from my lips.
He stepped closer and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. “I look forward to seeing you tonight, Gabriella,” he whispered softly before turning and sliding into a sleek, black town car, leaving me standing there, my eyes wide, wondering just who in the hell Adrian Morningstar was.
How did he know my name?
And why was I finding it hard to care?
I’d like to say I wavered back and forth on whether or not I was going to meet him that night, but the moment he drove away from me, I dashed to my beat-up Honda Civic and hightailed it home so I could get ready for the night. Ready for him. I didn’t have much, but I could work with what I did.
My heart hammered as I rattled the address off to the cab driver, and for a split second, I wondered what I was doing. I pushed all hesitation out of my mind when I stepped out of the cab and looked up at the nightclub before me. My hands trembled as I walked into Oasis, one of Philadelphia’s most upscale clubs, precisely at nine.
Even if I’d given in to my nerves and tried to flee, I couldn’t have. Adrian was waiting for me, as if he knew without a shadow of a doubt I’d show up. He was right. There was no question about it. There never had been.
“You look ravishing, Gabriella. Like a beautiful work of art I want to keep in my home to show off whenever I want,” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath heating me all the way to my toes. Funny. I’d thought the same of him just earlier today.
By the appreciative glimmer in his eye, I could tell he meant it. Like he did want to ravish me and then keep me to show off whenever he pleased. It’d been a long time since anyone had called me beautiful, and I wondered if he knew that art was my weakness. In less than five seconds, Adrian had me. Hook, line, sinker.