Chapter 2
1855 Words
“This is Henley James’s phone,” she says, all professional-like. “I’m his assistant, Jenny.”
“Oh.” Relief fills me. “Can I speak to Henley, please?”
“He’s not available right now. May I ask who is calling?”
My eyes widen. Is this a trap? Maybe he has a girlfriend, and this is her pretending to be his assistant to catch him out and plot my murder. “Um.” I hesitate as I try to think on my feet. My eyes flick to Chloe’s. “It’s Juliet.”
“Juliet Drinkwater?” she asks.
“Yes.” I frown. How does she know my name? “I am.”
“Juliet, Henley has had to take an unexpected trip overseas for a site inspection, but he left me with instructions if you were to call.”
What?
“Oh,” I reply, surprised.
“Yes, unfortunately he won’t be back until Friday, but he wanted for me to arrange a time on Friday night for dinner.”
What?
This is weird.
“Um... sure.” I shrug.
“Is seven thirty okay?”
“Yes.”
“May I have your address so that Henley can pick you up?”
This is weird. I am not giving some random woman my address. She could be his bunny-boiling serial-killer wife. “I’ll meet him there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, I’ve booked Monsieur on Riley for seven thirty.”
“You’ve already booked it?”
“I knew you’d call,” she replies, a twang of sarcasm in her voice.
I roll my eyes at my predictability. Of course you did. “Okay, thank you.”
“Goodbye, Juliet.”
“Goodbye.”
I hang up the phone and stare at Chloe in shock. “Friday night, seven thirty.”
“f*****g boom.” Chloe laughs. “And that’s how you do it.”
At 7:10 p.m. on Friday night, I get out of the Uber with a spring in my step.
I’m early, I know, but I want to get there before him so I get to watch him walk in and not the other way around. I’m nervous enough already.
I’m wearing a sexy black date dress that’s strapless and fitted, along with new high heels; I even had a blowout today at the salon.
I’ve got a good feeling about this... he was handsome and so nice; I mean, he even told his assistant about me when he had to travel overseas. It sounds like he’s as eager as I am.
I walk up the street and see the swanky gold sign:
M ONSIEUR
Wow, what a place to have a first date.
I’ve wanted to come here for forever. This place is legendary. I’ve tried to get a table here before, but it has always been booked out for months in advance.
I push open the heavy doors and walk in. The waiter at the front desk smiles. “Hello. How may I help you?”
“Hi, I have a booking for seven thirty tonight?” I smile nervously as I look around. Wow, this place is something else. French furnishings. Big, beautiful murals are painted on the walls. Lamps with warm glow bulbs are everywhere.
“What was the name?” he asks.
“Um.” I shrug, unsure of the answer. “Henley James?”
“Yes.” He smiles. “Your table is right this way.” He leads me through a hallway and out to another area, then down some stairs, and we arrive at a quaint garden courtyard. It’s a different feel out here, more playful and intimate.
Music is playing, and the sound of jovial chatter floats through the air. Beautiful murals are painted on the brickwork. There are huge plants in terra-cotta pots, and fairy lights are strung up above, creating a canopy.
Wow, touchdown on the location.
He knows his stuff; this date is a ten already.
And then I see him... and my stomach flips. He’s sitting at a table for two in the corner as he waits.
He’s early too.
I had a sneaking suspicion that this was all an elaborate hoax. He glances up. Our eyes meet, and he instantly rises out of his chair to greet me.
He’s wearing a sport coat and pants, a black shirt with the top button down. I can see a peek of his chest.
“Hello.” He smiles as he kisses me on the cheek. “You look lovely.”
Oh, he smells good.
“Hi.” I swoon.
He pulls my chair out, and I slip into it. “Thank you.” I can feel that my face is a nervous shade of red.
Okay, scratch that: this date is a twenty.
I roll my lips and rearrange my cutlery on the table as my heart races. I’m so nervous it’s ridiculous.
He sits back in his seat. “So...”
“So...” I smile.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the waitress asks.
Tequila, bitch... all of it.
I pick up the drink menu. Quick, pick something.
“What would you like, sir?” she asks him.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” he replies in his deep sexy voice.
“Of course.” The waitress smiles.
Oh... the pressure.
“Do you like margaritas?” I ask timidly.
“I love them.” His eyes hold mine, and he bites his bottom lip as if to hide his smile.
“I’ll have a margarita, please,” I tell her.
“How would you like it?”
“Shaken and salted.”
“Make that two,” Henley says.
The waitress disappears, and my eyes meet his. “Do you really like margaritas, or are you being smooth?”
His eyes dance with delight. “I’m trying to be smooth, but I do actually like margaritas. So, good choice.”
“Oh.” I smile goofily.
“How am I doing?”
“With the smooth?”
“Yeah.”
“Like a baby’s bottom.”
He chuckles and I do too.
“I was actually nervous coming here tonight.” He smiles.
“You?” I scoff.
“Yes, me,” he scoffs back. “Why wouldn’t you think I’d be nervous?”
Because you look like that.
“You just don’t seem like a nervous type of person,” I reply casually. “I was nervous coming here tonight, but...” My voice trails off as I stop myself from elaborating.
“But what?” He smiles.
“But I don’t go on many dates, so...” I shrug.
His brow furrows. “You don’t go on many dates?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Men are dicks.”
He chuckles. “That we are.”
I look around at our surroundings. “I give your date place a ten, though.”
“It is nice, isn’t it?” He looks around too.
“Come here often?”
“First time.”
I nod, feeling suddenly out of my depth.
“I don’t date often either,” he adds.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know—it’s a lot of hassle.”
“Here you are.” The waitress puts our drinks on the table, interrupting us.
“Thank you.”
She leaves us alone, and we both pick up our drinks, and I hold mine up for a toast. He holds his to mine and waits.
“To smooth hassles,” I say.
He gives me a slow sexy smile. “I never said it was going to be smooth.”
The air between us is electric.
“I like some bumps.” I smile, feeling a little braver.
“Something tells me this date is going to be anything but a hassle.”
“Until I turn into a psychopath tomorrow.”
He throws his head back and laughs out loud, and I smile goofily over at him.
He thinks I’m funny.
A million margaritas and laughs later.
The restaurant has gone quiet. Everyone cleared out. But our conversation is still running hot.
Henley James is funny and charming, not to mention utterly gorgeous. I find myself hanging on his every word.
“So...” He sits back in his chair as he acts serious. “How do you rate our date so far?”
“So far?”
He smiles mischievously into his drink.
“So far...” I narrow my eyes as I pretend to think hard. “Like a two.”
“A two?” he gasps. “This date is not a two.”
“I know.” I laugh. “It’s a ten.”
He gives me that look, the one he does so well. “Twenty.”
“Twenty?” I raise my eyebrows: it’s like he’s reading my mind. “That’s a high score.”
He twirls his glass on the table. “I think this is my best first date ever.”
Your last first date.
“What’s so good about it?” I smile as I play along.
“Well... the scenery.” He gestures to me.
I giggle and lick the salt from my glass.
“That.” He points to me with my tongue hanging out. “That is a definite high point. Every time you do it, I feel it in my loins.”
I burst out laughing, and he does too.
“Loin or groin?” I ask.
“Both.”
We laugh again. I’m sure the waitstaff all hate us by now—nothing is this funny.
“I love that you’re understated,” he says.
I flick my hair around and bat my eyelashes.
“Your wanting-to-renovate-a-house thing is a little concerning, though. Don’t know if I would trust you with a nail gun.”
I giggle. He is so fun.
“I love that you’re a nurse.”
“Have you lost somebody?” I ask.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well.” I shrug. “Most people who appreciate nurses have spent a lot of time in a hospital.”
“My mother.”
We fall serious.
“I’m sorry. Recently?”
“No.” He sips his drink. “When I was fifteen.”
I watch him, unsure what to say next.
He looks out over the restaurant as if miles away. “It was a catastrophic event in my life.”
Oh...
I hold my hand out over the table to him, and he places his in mine. I rub my thumb over his fingers. “She would be very proud of you.”
His eyes meet mine, and he rolls his lips as if annoyed. I instantly know that I’ve overstepped.
“But she said you better up your game because this date is definitely slipping down to a two.”
He smirks and picks up his drink. “Really?”
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