Nadia POV
Cole barely shifts the car into park before I’m pushing the door open. He doesn’t try to stop me. “Merritt, table for two,” he calls after me, keys still in his hand, already a step behind dealing with the valet. He doesn’t have to say it twice. Every staff at every place like this has it filed under his name before we walk in; it’s never been a question of whether they’ll recognize it, only how fast.
“Table for two, the Merritt reservation,” I tell the hostess before Cole can reach the stand.
He arrives a half-step behind me. His hand finds the small of my back naturally. The hostess smiles brightly. I smile back, counting how many tables can see ours.
We sit. Cole doesn’t open the menu.
“She’ll have black coffee—” he tells the server.
“No—milk, actually,” I start, but st
