Chapter 6
1043 Words
Chapter 6
Leila did not sleep well.
She turned from one side of the bed to the other, trying to quiet her thoughts. It didn't work.
Every time she closed her eyes, Adrian Kincaid appeared.
His voice.
His steady gaze.
The way he seemed calm all the time, as if nothing could shake him.
And worst of all, the dinner invitation.
By six in the morning, she gave up and got out of bed.
The city outside was still waking up. The streets were quieter than usual, and the first light of day painted the buildings in soft colors.
Leila made tea and stood in her small kitchen.
"One dinner," she said to herself.
That was all.
Nothing serious.
Nothing complicated.
Her phone buzzed.
Simi.
Simi:
Did you survive billionaire dinner negotiations?
Leila laughed.
Leila:
Barely.
Simi:
So you're going?
Leila looked at Adrian's card lying on the counter.
Leila:
Yes.
Simi:
Girl...
Leila:
It's one dinner.
Simi:
That is exactly how trouble starts.
Leila smiled and put her phone away.
A few hours later, she stood in front of her mirror.
She told herself she wasn't dressing for Adrian.
Still, she changed outfits three times.
That annoyed her.
In the end, she chose a simple black dress and her favorite boots. She kept her makeup light and wore small silver earrings.
Simple.
Comfortable.
Good enough.
The restaurant was downtown.
Everything about it looked expensive. The lighting was soft, the music was quiet, and the staff seemed to glide across the room instead of walking.
A hostess led her to a table near the window.
Adrian was already there.
Of course he was.
He stood when she arrived.
"You came."
Leila sat down.
"You sound surprised."
"I wasn't sure."
"You invited me."
"That doesn't mean you'd say yes."
She had no answer for that.
The waiter arrived and took their orders.
Once they were alone again, silence settled between them.
Not awkward.
Just careful.
Leila decided to get straight to the point.
"So why am I here?"
Adrian rested an arm on the table.
"Do I need a reason?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I don't usually have dinner with strangers."
A faint smile appeared.
"We're still strangers?"
"Mostly."
He nodded.
"Fair enough."
Leila waited.
Eventually he said, "I wanted to see you outside work."
She blinked.
"That's your reason?"
"It's the truth."
She studied him.
"You always answer questions like that?"
"Usually."
"It's frustrating."
"I've been told."
Leila shook her head.
"You know, you're very difficult."
His smile grew slightly.
"So are you."
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Adrian leaned back in his chair.
"Ask what you really want to ask."
Leila narrowed her eyes.
"And what do you think I want to ask?"
"Why I'm interested."
The directness caught her off guard.
She hated that.
"Fine," she said. "Why are you interested?"
His gaze stayed on hers.
"Because I like you."
Just like that.
Simple.
Honest.
No games.
Leila wasn't prepared for that answer.
Most men tried to be clever.
Adrian didn't seem interested in being clever.
"You barely know me."
"I know enough to want to know more."
Her fingers tightened around her glass.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
"You say things very confidently."
"I usually mean them."
"That sounds dangerous."
A small smile touched his face.
"There you go again."
"What?"
"Calling everything dangerous."
Leila laughed despite herself.
"Maybe because you make it sound that way."
His eyes warmed.
"Maybe."
The food arrived before the conversation could get any heavier.
For a while, they talked about easier things.
Photography.
Travel.
The city.
Leila spoke about growing up, about how photography helped her notice things other people missed.
Adrian listened carefully.
Not pretending to listen.
Actually listening.
That surprised her.
Most people waited for their turn to speak.
He didn't.
When she finished telling a story about a difficult photoshoot, Adrian smiled.
"You love your work."
"I do."
"It's obvious."
Leila tilted her head.
"How?"
"The way you talk about it."
Something about his answer made her smile.
As the evening continued, she found herself relaxing.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
Yet it did.
Adrian was still difficult to read.
Still controlled.
Still frustrating.
But he was also funny in a quiet way.
Every now and then he would make a dry comment that caught her off guard.
More than once, he made her laugh.
Each time, he seemed pleased by it.
Eventually he said, "You look different when you laugh."
Leila nearly dropped her fork.
"There it is."
"There what is?"
"The dangerous comment."
His eyebrow lifted.
"That was a compliment."
"It was too smooth."
"It wasn't planned."
"That's what makes it worse."
Adrian laughed softly.
The sound surprised her.
She realized she had never heard him laugh before.
For a moment, he looked younger.
Less guarded.
More real.
That made her nervous.
Not because of him.
Because of herself.
Because she liked seeing that side of him.
When dinner was over, Adrian walked her outside.
The night air was cool.
Cars moved along the street, headlights flashing past.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Adrian looked at her.
"Did you regret coming?"
Leila thought about it.
The honest answer was easy.
"No."
Something softened in his expression.
"Good."
She immediately pointed a finger at him.
"Don't look so pleased with yourself."
His smile returned.
"I'll try."
"You won't."
"No."
That made her laugh again.
The sound hung between them.
Warm and easy.
Dangerously easy.
Leila adjusted her bag.
"I should go."
"You should."
Neither moved.
Then Adrian said, "Can I ask something?"
"Maybe."
"Would you have dinner with me again?"
There it was.
The question she knew was coming.
Leila should have said no.
She should have been careful.
Instead, she looked at him and said, "Maybe."
His eyes brightened slightly.
It was a tiny change, but she noticed.
"Maybe," he repeated.
"Don't get excited."
"I'll do my best."
She shook her head.
"You're impossible."
"So I've heard."
Leila smiled despite herself.
Then she stepped toward the curb.
"Goodnight, Adrian."
"Goodnight, Leila."
She turned and walked away.
This time she could feel him watching her leave.
The strange thing was that she didn't mind.
And that worried her far more than anything Adrian Kincaid had said all evening.
- Writer
