Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Sure, sounds fun. What time?
Just that, simple and agreeing, but relief floods me so hard. I lean heavily against the window, as excitement bubbles up underneath. I feel like a kid getting a yes response to a first date. Ridiculous but undeniably wonderful. I type back quickly:
7 at La Grande Boucherie in Midtown. I'll meet you there.
As I press send, it hits me harder. I'm in more trouble than I realize. This isn't just an attraction anymore; it's deeper, pulling me in ways I can't ignore, making me want to chase this feeling, this version of us that's alive and electric.
I glance at the clock on the wall. Still a few hours to kill. I wonder if I should head home to change, swap this suit for something more relaxed, but I have a ton of work to do. No, better to stay put, ride out the time here, finish as much work as possible. I sink back into my chair and try to focus on the emails piling up.
Time crawls, each minute ticking slowly on my watch. The office empties out gradually. My mind keeps drifting back to her. I keep thinking of the way she laughs, open and genuine, nothing like the cold smiles from before. Finally, 6:30p.m. rolls around. I grab my jacket, and with my nerves buzzing under my skin, I head down in the elevator.
I arrive at La Grande Boucherie right on time, the restaurant's grand entrance on West 53rd glowing under string lights, and the facade of ornate brass and glass is like a slice of Paris dropped in Manhattan. The hum of conversation spills out as a doorman nods me in.
Inside, it's warm and inviting. The high ceilings have intricate moldings, and velvet banquettes in deep reds line the walls. A massive chandelier casts its golden glow over tabletops set with crisp white linens. The air is rich with the smell of cooking garlic and herbs from the kitchen.
Jason and Sarah are already at the table—a corner booth with a view of the bustling bar. They stand as I approach, Jason extending a hand with a grin, his tie loosened like he's ready to unwind.
"Blake, so glad you could make it. Sarah, this is my boss."
Sarah smiles warmly as we shake hands. She is wearing a simple black sheath dress and a string of pearls around her neck. "Pleasure to finally meet you. We've heard so much."
We settle in, and the server pours water into crystal glasses. The conversation flows; business deals, the latest merger talks. Jason dives into details about the tech acquisition from earlier. His voice is animated over the low jazz playing from hidden speakers. Sarah listens, then chimes in during a lull, her eyes sparkling as she sips her Chardonnay.
"This dinner feels extra special tonight," she says, leaning forward a bit, her tone light but genuine. "I've never had a real conversation with your wife before, or even seen her up close, except from afar at company events, or in those society page photos. She's always seemed so... elegant and unreachable."
I force a casual smile, but inside, something tightens. Unreachable, yeah, that's one way to put it. But wait till you see her now with all these changes I can't pin down. I don't respond much, just murmur. "She's something," and take a sip of my scotch and glance toward the door.
She chooses that very minute to walk in. Whoa! My heart skips a beat.
She is wearing a red mid-length halter neck dress that makes her look crazy hot. The fabric is like liquid silk, and it clings to her curves with devastating effectiveness. She is wearing red lipstick, and her hair is loose in waves down her neck and shoulders. I can’t stop staring at the smooth skin of her shoulders. Everyone at the table goes still, stunned and silent for a beat. Sarah's eyes widen and Jason's jaw slackens before he catches himself.
"Jesus," Jason mutters under his breath.
Sarah smacks his arm lightly. It's a playful swat that breaks the tension, laughter rippling around the table as she rolls her eyes. "Behave," she teases, but her smile is genuine.
Me? I can't take my eyes off Carolyn. Heat surges through me, hardening me under the table as she approaches. God, she's stunning.
Chapter Forty-Six
JULIET
I’m stepping into a scene from someone else's life, and yet it feels as if it is my life. Vibe is casual, he said, and yet here I am, walking into La Grande Boucherie, dressed to kill because I’m crazy about Blake and want him to be unable to resist me. Besides, I had to. I need confidence. My heart's been fluttering like a demented butterfly with excitement and nerves since I agreed to come. Even now, my stomach feels like it’s twisted into one big knot.
I smooth down my dress and look around.