When he glances up at me over the rim of his glass, I feel like my throat is swelling shut, though. It feels like a punch straight to the gut. There’s pain in his eyes. Just the faintest shadow of it. Most people would likely miss it, but not me. I recognize it, because I see the same shadow lurking in my own eyes every morning when I look at myself in the mirror.
Aidan clears his throat, then puts down his glass. “You know veal’s baby cow, right?” he asks.
“What?”
“Veal is made from baby cows. I know plenty of women who’ll eat a steak but most of them seem to have a problem eating a five month old doe-eyed creature that lived in a barn and never saw the light of day.”
I puff out my cheeks, slowly letting the air out. “No, I didn’t know that. And now I feel like an asshole. Maybe you could have told me when the waiter was taking our order.”
“Maybe you could have turned up to our date on time.”
I give him half a smile, staring him down. He’s ballsy, but he waited for me. He’s not afraid to give me shit, but he’s patient enough to have stuck around when I told him I had a guy in my apartment less than twenty minutes ago. “I think I need wine,” I tell him.
“Absolutely. Order whatever you like.”
I flag the waitress down, already knowing I’m not ordering wine. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed supermodel that comes over to the table fumbles her pen when she sees who I’m sitting with.
“Oh…Mr. Callahan. I didn’t know you were dining with us this evening. I’m sorry,” she stammers, stooping to collect her pen at his feet. I’m sure Aidan gets an awesome view of her considerable cleavage. I get a rather less exciting view of her back, even though I was the one who called her over. “Is there anything I can get for you?” the waitress asks Aidan.
“My friend would like to order a drink,” he says flatly, gesturing to me. The girl spins around, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. Her lips are all pouty and bee stung. Ugh. “I’ll have a martini, please,” I inform her. “Just a dash of Vermouth.”
Aidan nods his head as though he approves. “You know what? Give me one, too, please. But make mine dirty.”
I arch an eyebrow at him, allowing my amusement to show on my face. “A dirty martini drinker, huh? Well, well.”
Aidan mirrors my entertained expression. God, he’s good looking. I hate that I notice. His dark hair is swept back out of his face, but it’s obvious he hasn’t used any product in it. It’s just naturally wild. His eyes are ice blue, startlingly vivid. “Ms. Floyd, you’ll find I generally like most things in life to be a little dirty.”
Beside us, the waitress wheezes; it sounds like she’s choking on her own tongue. Aidan looks up at her and smiles blandly. “I think that’s everything for now.”
The waitress gets the hint and leaves.
“That was cruel,” I tell him.
“What was?”
“Teasing her like that. You saw how stunned she was by you.”
“I wasn’t teasing her, Essie.” Aidan laughs, and the sound reverberates around the small alcove we’re sitting in, sinking into my bones. It’s a wonderful laugh. The kind actors probably work on for years.
Our martinis arrive moments later, thank god. While I wouldn’t go so far to say as the drink clears my head, it does help me remember what my purpose is here tonight, and that I need to focus. I need to focus on being charming. I need to focus on being sexy, and I need to focus on making sure Aidan is interested in me. We didn’t get off to the smoothest start. I’ve got to make sure I’m on my A-game for the rest of the night.
“Do you enjoy working at the law firm?” Aidan asks as I take a sip of my drink.
I shrug. “Sure, it’s all right.”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “Only all right? That’s not exactly high praise.”
I should keep my mouth shut but that’s never really been my strong suit. “Yeah, well. Mendel, Goldstein & Hofstadter are the best there are in this city. I like working for people who are excellent at their trade. Unfortunately, because they’re the best, that’s also made them the most expensive lawyers in the city, too. Only someone like you would be able to afford a decent attorney. The system panders to the wealthy. If you’re not wealthy, the deck is immediately stacked against you.”
“Interesting that you’re still working there, then. Don’t you want to be a lawyer?”
“No.” I take another sip of my drink, realizing that there’s nothing left in the bottom of the glass. So much for taking it slow. “I have no desire to go to law school, wrack up the debt that comes with it, and then feel that I have to turn around and charge my clients three hundred dollars an hour just so I can pay off that debt.”
“Why don’t you do something that you’re really interested in, then? Why spend all this time working somewhere that you resent?”
Good question. I can’t tell you that if I work somewhere else, I can’t spy on you, now, can I? “I don’t know; it’s a job. It pays the bills. It might be my own personal history that makes me a little more sensitive to the money issues—I’d have a hell of a hard time paying for a lawyer now if I needed one, but I’d be able to do it. Five, six years ago there’d be no way I’d be able to.”
From out of nowhere another martini appears, the empty glass vanished, and all evidence of my nervous drinking is gone. How did I not notice the waitress come over and put a fresh drink?
“We probably shouldn’t spend the whole night talking about work,” I say. “I mean, do you love what you do?”
He gives me a wry smile. “I certainly wouldn’t call it love. Running a global logistics company isn’t really something I think anyone could love.”
“I’m sure being a billionaire is.”
“It has certain benefits. But plenty of drawbacks, too.”
“How so? Never worrying about money again…doesn’t seem there could possibly be a downside.”
“You know, if I’d been born into it, it might not be as big a deal. Or as noticeable.”
“What do you mean—if you were born into it? You were born into it.”
“Right, but it was my family’s money, not mine. Not that my parents didn’t take care of me, but I didn’t want this life. I went out and explored, started earning my own money. Ha!” He grins, smoothing his hands over the tablecloth in front of him. “I don’t know whether I should be offended that you look so surprised right now.”
“I just…I didn’t know that about you. I thought you’d been a part of this world forever.”
“Hardly.” He looks away, his gaze growing distant, like he’s remembering something. It seems to make him equally briefly sad and happy at the same time. “Anyway, it didn’t really matter what I wanted when it came down to it. I still ended up back here, head of this company, with a net worth and employees to support. Contracts and acquisitions and a whole bunch of other shit to worry about. The corporate life isn’t one I naturally came to, nor is it one I feel totally comfortable in. And then you’ve got people coming out of the woodwork once they realize you’ve come into money and they could use a loan or a vacation to Ibiza. The first year or so I was back in Chicago, I had more old friends look me up than I even remember having. It was crazy. I’m sure some of them genuinely wanted to get back in touch, but a lot of it was just people wanting money. They wanted something and suddenly I had it. Simple.”
“Seems like a rather small trade off, if that means you’re financially secure for the rest of your life.”
He shrugs. “It is what it is. I don’t really hold it against them. I mean, I actually like to help people out when I can. I’m really interested in living as simple a life as possible.”