“I’ll send a car to pick you up on Friday. Let’s have dinner together.”
“At your… penthouse?” I manage a murmur.
“No. Somewhere nice and private. Dress beautifully as you always have… I gotta go now. I’ll be in touch.”
I give him an eager nod, opening my eyes when he grips my waist. He lifts me off his lap onto the cold leather seat.
The door unlocks on cue.
My fingers fidget, curling and straightening everything—my hair, my shirt, my jeans. It’s the shyness he brings out of me.
He opens his door, steps out, and holds the door for me.
I’ve barely put one foot out when I see my mom standing a distance away on the porch.
My stomach sinks. Yet I climb out of the car.
Alexander looks over his shoulder and gives my mother a slight bow.
My mom waves.
Garvey appears at the driver’s do
