“To your room?”

“Yes, to my room. I’m in 3411.”

“So you’re not sleeping here?”

He grins wide, showing his perfect white teeth. “Not unless you want me to.”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

He shrugs.

My eyes fixate on him as he makes his way across the room, picking up his suitcase along the way. “Oh, before I forget, do you have something to wear tonight? It’s black tie.”

“I got it covered.”

Before exiting the room, he winks. “I’m sure you do.”

As soon as the door clicks, I fall back onto the pillowtop bed, every muscle in my body relaxing.

PACKING THE COCKTAIL DRESS was a good call, I think to myself as I slowly walk into the eloquent dining room. It’s the type of place where even the wait staff looks ready to attend a fancy event, dressed in black linen.

“Are you waiting for someone?” a man with a slight British accent asks. I’m guessing he works here by the way he’s dressed.

“I’m dining with Pierce Stanley. I’ll wait here for him if that’s okay.”

He smiles warmly. “Actually, he’s waiting for you. Follow me.”

My eyes wander the room looking for Pierce as I follow behind the host. I don’t see him. When we reach the far corner, the reason is obvious—he’s tucked away in a small booth surrounded by three half walls. He picks up his glass of whiskey from the table, but the second he lays eyes on me he sets it back down. The power of his stare forces me to shift in my heels. Sometimes, he’s too much.

His lips part as he stands to greet me. “You’re stunning,” he says, lifting my arms to get a better look. I blush, looking down at my dress. It’s black, form fitting, and hemmed right above my knees with long sleeves and a deep V-neck. I’d bought it to wear to the rehearsal dinner Derek and I never had.

“Thank you,” I reply quietly. He doesn’t look bad himself, dressed in a tux similar to what he wore to the benefit. I’d bet he wears a tux more in one week than most men do in their lifetime.

He pulls a chair out for me. “I hope you’re hungry. I went ahead and ordered a couple appetizers.”

“I’m starving.” I sit in the chair he offered, unfolding my white napkin onto my lap. His fingers trail along my neck on his way back to his seat, giving me goose bumps.

“Can I offer you some wine?” Looking up, I see the host is still standing there watching our exchange.

I blush, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yes, red please.”

“I’d like the lady to try a glass of your best,” Pierce instructs.

The host nods, disappearing around the corner, leaving Pierce nowhere to look but me. I pick up the small water glass, sipping it only to avoid conversation. It won’t last forever. All the flirtatious words, all the little touches throughout the day lead to this.

“Your water glass is empty.”

I choke on the little bit I still hold in my mouth, my eyes watering.

“Do you like filet?” he asks out of the blue.

“What’s that?”

The corners of his mouth turn up. “Filet mignon, or in English, a tender, lean steak.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. I guess I’m a little out of it tonight.”

The waiter comes to fill my wine glass, and Pierce places our order, kindly asking the waiter to leave us until our dinner is done unless a wine glass needs to be filled.

“I’m introducing a rule for the night,” Pierce announces as soon as the waiter is out of earshot.

“What’s that?”

“We’re not to talk about work.”

“Okay, what do you want to talk about? We covered quite a bit the other night,” I answer, bringing my wine glass to my lips. It’s rich and delicious, one taste leading to another.

“Tell me about where you grew up.”

Just thinking about it makes me happy. I grew up with something as close to a sitcom family as you can get. “My dad farmed, and my mom worked part-time as a receptionist in the doctor’s office. After they had me, they found out they couldn’t have any more children, so I was it, but it all worked out. I ended up a spoiled child.”

“You don’t seem spoiled at all.”

I shrug, taking yet another sip of wine. “Emotionally spoiled, I guess. We didn’t have a lot, but I felt like I had everything.”

He stares at me, lips parting slightly. “That’s one thing money can’t buy.”

“What’s that?”

“Love,” he says simply.

That’s one thing I’ve never thought much about. We assume that money equals happiness and that it allows a person to have everything they want, but it means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

I wet my lips, picking my next words carefully. “What about you? How was your childhood?”

He sits back in his chair, eyeing me warily. “Lonely.”

“Were you an only child?”

“I have one sister. My parents decided they needed to fail more than one child.”

My mind wanders in so many different directions. Was he abused? Did they abandon him? All of it makes my heart ache.

“My dad was a successful district attorney who eventually got a seat on the judge’s bench. I’m sure he was a nice guy at some point, helping so many people, but he was always too busy to spend time with us. I remember the things he bought, but nothing more.” His voice shows a vulnerability I’m not used to.

“And your mom?”

He sighs, running his hands over his face. “She didn’t work, but being the wife of a successful lawyer meant keeping up appearances. She was more concerned about how we looked and what activities we participated in than anything else. But don’t feel totally sorry for me, I had a very nice nanny.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t raise me.”

I hesitantly reach my hand across the table, covering his. His eyes go to where our bodies are connected then back to mine. “That doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.”

The waiter chooses that moment to reappear, setting our sizzling steaks in front of us as well as a dish of grilled asparagus and roasted baby potatoes. “Anything else I can get you?”

I look to Pierce to answer, but he’s staring at me the same way he was a few seconds ago. “More wine, please,” I answer for him.

Our conversation turns to our high school and college days while we devour our dinner. I even let him in on more details of my life with Derek, how hard I fell, and how it all fell apart. Pierce alludes to a couple serious relationships, but nothing that went too far.

I’ve had him on this pedestal because of everything he’s accomplished at a relatively young age. Since the other night, I’ve seen a new side to him—one that makes being around him easier. He has way more than I do, but inside, where it counts, he’s just another guy. A nice, sophisticated guy who happens to be really easy to talk to.

“Wine?” Pierce asks, pointing to my empty glass. My thoughts and opinions are already swimming in a sea of alcohol. It’s too good. “Come on,” he urges, “I bought a whole bottle, and there’s just a little left.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Every glass has been going down easier than the last.

The waiter clears everything from the table. “Can I interest you in some dessert?”

I’m about to say yes, but Pierce interrupts. “No, thank you.”

I want to argue, but the look on Pierce’s face warns me not to. I wait until the waiter walks away with Pierce’s credit card to bring it up. “I really wanted chocolate.” I sound like a typical woman, but I don’t care. Plus, I’ve had wine, and nothing goes better with wine than chocolate.

“You’ll get your chocolate.”

When we walk out of the restaurant his hand takes its usual position on my back. “There’s somewhere I want to take you. Do you want to grab your coat?”

“Are we walking?” If we are, I’m in trouble. The alcohol makes it almost impossible to feel my legs. I could have gone without the fourth glass.

“The car is out front.”

Thoughtful.