by Lena Skye
“It took him a month to find out you weren’t working at your old job,” he pointed out. “I think we can keep him from finding out we’re doing this—don’t you?” Danielle smiled back at him, but Victor could still see the doubt in her eyes. More than anything, he wanted to get up, walk around the desk, and kiss her—but he held himself back. They had to settle this between them, figure it out, without distraction.
“I think we’re going to find out,” Danielle said wryly. “What’s the worst he can do, anyway? I’m his only sister. He can’t kill me for dating you.” The way she said that—cavalier and at the same time not entirely certain—made Victor wonder just what she did think her brother would do when he found out she was dating him. They’d both worked so hard to stay out of the crime syndicates in Philly; was them dating each other just going to draw them both into the world they’d worked so hard to avoid getting enmeshed in?
*
Even as she made her way towards the front of the Franklin Institute, Danielle considered the possibility of calling or texting Victor and canceling their first real, proper date together. It technically isn’t your first date, she reminded herself. You had that one-night stand with him that turned out not to be a one-night stand, and then you had that date for your one-month anniversary working for him. This is your third date, if you want to get technical. But it was, she countered, the first actual date that they were going on together, since they’d agreed to start seeing each other outside of work.
Victor had put the ball in her court for planning the date. He had said she could choose where they went and what they did, and she’d ended up choosing the Franklin Institute for a few reasons, as the place where they would meet up and spend the first part of their afternoon together: first, she didn’t think any of Sam’s friends in the Bey family would be hanging out in the family-friendly space. They would be—she hoped—working in the afternoon, doing their usual thing in the clubs downtown, taking care of weekend business, whatever it was they did.
But then, too, she had—as a teenager—wanted to go on a date to the place; when she’d taken field trips there as a kid, it had seemed strangely romantic—especially the planetarium with its “the sky tonight” showing. Assuming everything went well, they’d make the show, stargaze a bit, and wander the exhibits that interested them both before moving onto the next item on her agenda for the date: dinner. After that, they would go back to her place—instead of going to Victor’s—and finish the date.
Danielle felt just as nervous about letting Victor come to her apartment as she did about meeting with him at all, in public, for a date; but she had spent the night before and then again that morning cleaning everything to be ready for him, and it seemed a big waste to do all that and not go through with her intention to invite him over.
She found him just inside, waiting for her; dressed in jeans and a casual, button-down shirt, Danielle thought to herself that it really wasn’t fair how good-looking her boss and date was. Before she’d gone home the night before, she’d made a stop at the mall, and bought herself a brand-new sundress to wear on her date—even though it was still summer, for a few weeks anyway, she could feel the shifting of the weather, and Danielle was pretty sure she’d only get one or two wears out of the dress before consigning it to the closet for the next six months.
But at least now you’re making the kind of money that lets you buy a sundress for a random date when you feel like it—that’s a big perk of things with Victor.
Victor spotted her approaching him and smiled, and Danielle saw the heat creep up into his eyes, the bright blue irises darkening as he took her in. She felt herself blushing and wasn’t even sure why—he’d seen her fully naked, and they’d had sex more than a dozen times already. Why should she feel self-conscious about being in a sundress in front of him? But she was. How does he make me feel this way? Giddy, shy...after we’ve already had sex, after we’ve worked together for a month and more...I still feel like a stupid teenage girl with my first crush.
She shook off the embarrassed thought and closed the distance between herself and Victor; Danielle wasn’t expecting the way he leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips, but she wasn’t so surprised by it that she rejected the kiss. “I already collected our tickets,” Victor told her, pulling back and taking her hand in his.
Danielle smiled up at him, feeling her heart beat faster even as something deep inside of her seemed to relax all at the same time. They entered the museum and institute proper, hand-in-hand, and Danielle reflected—for a moment or two—that it was the first real date she had been on in a long time; of course, she wasn’t sure whether or not to count her outing with Victor from two weeks before.
They spent a while wandering through the institute itself, and Danielle kept an eye on the time; she wanted to make sure they were able to get to the planetarium in time for the show she wanted to see. “So, I’m curious as to why you picked here for our date,” Victor said as they watched kids playing in the SportsZone exhibit, smiling to themselves.
“You had to have come here when you were in school, right?” Victor nodded in response to her question.
“More than one field trip here,” he confirmed.
“Well, I always thought it would be a good place for a date,” Danielle explained. “And I really—really—wanted to take someone with me to the planetarium, especially.” Victor looked at her for a moment and smiled slowly.
“Stargazing?” She nodded.
“Since you can’t ever really see the stars in the city,” she explained, “I always thought it would be nice as a compromise.”
“We could go out of town sometime,” Victor pointed out. “Head out to the Adirondacks or somewhere like that, rent a cabin for a weekend, and do some real stargazing.” Danielle pictured it in her mind: probably in fall or maybe even winter, bundled up against the chill, both of them looking up through some kind of skylight, or maybe sitting out on the porch with one of those outdoor fireplaces near them.
Drinking wine, or mulled cider, or hot chocolate with a shot of Irish cream, toasting marshmallows and looking up at the stars together. It would be perfect—but it was also the kind of date that people only went on when they’d been together for months, maybe not even until a year. It was a long-term boyfriend-girlfriend kind of getaway, not the sort of thing that they should be planning when they’d only known each other maybe a month and a half.
“We’ll see where this goes,” she said, keeping her voice light. In truth, she wasn’t sure whether or not it would go anywhere; once Sam found out that she was actually dating Victor, not just working for him, Danielle was sure he would just pressure her more. He would want to get something, some kind of benefit from it. Just own up to it: you’re afraid he’s going to put you in the position to have to either break up with Vic or push him out of your life for good.
“Are you okay?” Victor had noticed the way her expression had changed at the thought, and Danielle pushed it out of her mind quickly, taking a deep breath. Here she was, on a date with a guy who showed every sign of being decent and caring—and who she already knew was great in bed—and she was worrying that she was going to have to either drop him for her brother or drop her brother for him.
“Yeah! Just remembered something—not important,” Danielle said. “Let’s go look at stars.” Victor smiled, giving her hand a quick squeeze, and she focused on enjoying the date as much as possible; Sam wasn’t about to take that from her, especially when he wasn’t even there.
They went into the planetarium together, and Danielle felt that giddy, almost shy feeling come back to her as the lights went down and she became fully aware that she was there, in the dark, with someone she liked; someone she was genuinely attracted to, looking up and waiting for the presentation to begin.
She reached out and found Victor’s hand, and as the stars began to come up, she felt her heart begin to beat faster again, and shifted closer to the man she was there with in the darkness, ignoring every
one else in the crowd, ignoring—almost—even the man speaking, explaining things as he went through the constellations. It was perfect.
“Where are we headed now?” They stepped out of the planetarium together, and Danielle found herself walking closer to Victor, right at his side, still holding his hand. It was a little early for dinner, but Danielle wanted—more than anything, in that moment—to get to the next stage of their date, and then take Victor back to her place.
“I got us a reservation at the Dandelion Pub,” Danielle told him. She checked the time on her phone. They had about half an hour until the reservation she’d signed them up for. “We could walk,” she suggested, “we have time.” After sitting at a desk most of the week, the idea of the walk—just over half a mile—actually appealed to her, and glancing down, Danielle saw they were both wearing shoes that were comfortable enough for the trek.
She hadn’t fancied the idea of navigating even just the institute itself in heels, so she’d worn sandals with a slight platform wedge to them; not enough to really feel like a heel, just enough to give her maybe an extra inch of height, and to make her dress look as good as possible.
“Do you really want to walk all that way?” Victor raised an eyebrow.
“Our reservation’s in thirty minutes,” Danielle replied. “And walking should take us about...maybe twenty? We’d get there just in time.” Victor nodded, and they made their way out of the building together, still comfortably, companionably close.
It was late enough in the afternoon that the evening’s subtle chill had already started to come in, and Danielle almost—but not quite—regretted wearing a sundress as they walked along 20th Street, passing through patches of shade every so often. When they turned onto Cherry Street, Danielle remembered, fleetingly, her concern about being seen with Victor by one of Sam’s friends; but she dismissed the thought. Sam’s friends would all be busy, and it wasn’t their part of town for doing business.
“Why did you pick the Dandelion Pub, if you don’t mind me asking?” Victor pulled her hand into the crook of his elbow, and Danielle smiled. It felt so strangely comforting, the old-fashioned gesture. Some of the older men in the Bey family liked to do a similar move, but they’d always, somehow, skeeved her out when she saw them doing it. With Victor it felt natural. “I was thinking you’d pick a really high-end place.” Danielle snorted.
“You’re too used to being a billionaire,” she said playfully. “I actually purposely picked it because it isn’t super fancy. I want you to think my apartment is nice—and going to some four-star restaurant before that would just disappoint you.” Victor let out a low whistle.
“I finally get to see your place, instead of us ending up at mine,” he said. Danielle blushed.
“I thought it was about time,” she said. “Besides, I’ve only been at your place what—twice now?”
“But we’ve known each other for a month and a half,” Victor pointed out.
“But this is our first actual, official date,” Danielle countered. Victor chuckled.
“I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to invite me over,” he said.
Then they had arrived, and Danielle let Victor get the door for her to let her in. The dinners and lunches he had taken her to—almost all of them at pricier restaurants in Philadelphia—had been wonderful, and the smells had always been heavenly, but there was something about the homey, hearty scents flowing through the dining room at Dandelion Pub that was even more comforting. The pub was certainly not cheap; it wasn’t Qdoba or one of the other fast-casual places, but it was a lot more casual than the other places they’d gone.
The hostess seated them, and as she looked over the menu, Danielle remembered suddenly that she and Sam had eaten at the pub before... It had been a special occasion, when she’d gotten the job she’d left to work with Victor originally. He’s not going to show up, and none of his guys are going to be coming in this time of day, she reminded herself, turning her attention onto the dinner menu.
“I am going to have a hard time deciding,” Victor informed her. “Everything sounds amazing.”
“It does,” Danielle agreed. “Too many choices that are just too good.”
After a few moments consulting back and forth, by the time the waiter arrived, Victor had settled on a Dark and Stormy to drink, while Danielle chose a Pimm’s Cup; they chose deviled eggs and the pickled beetroot jar to start, and Danielle pored over the menu trying to decide which main to get for herself, while Victor took up time for her, discussing different options with the waiter.
“I think I’ll go with a classic and just take the Shepherd’s Pie,” Danielle said finally.
“Excellent choice,” the waiter said, nodding to them both. “I’ll bring out your drinks and have your snacks out in a few.”
“I’m glad you brought me here,” Victor said when the man had left. “It’s good to get out of the usual fine dining rut every now and then.” Danielle chuckled.
“I just remembered that Sam and I came here a while ago—when I got the first big job—and for us it was a special occasion meal,” she told him. Victor grinned.
“Well, now with the money you’re making working for me, this is a pretty affordable meal,” he pointed out. “You could afford to explore restaurants on your own, if you wanted.” Danielle shrugged, thinking about it.
“I guess I could,” she said, thinking about the sum of money she’d set aside, a fairly substantial chunk of her first three paychecks working for Victor. The first deposit in her bank account had been a huge thrill to see; it was more money than she’d made from two weeks of work than ever in her life, and on top of her last paycheck from her other job, it had meant that she had rent for two months paid for, all in one fell swoop.
Even after setting a chunk of money from each paycheck aside, and paying the bills, she’d had more spending money than she was used to having—she still hadn’t adjusted.
“Well, if nothing else, I’m looking forward to exploring them with you,” Victor said, his eyes heating up once more as he met her gaze. “It’s okay to eat alone now and then, but it’s so much better with someone else.” Danielle smiled slightly.
“Why haven’t you gone after anyone?” That was a question that had been humming in the back of her mind the whole time she’d known Victor—or at least since he’d made his proposition to her, the morning after their first night together. “I mean, you’re rich, and good-looking, and smart and funny—you could get any girl you want. Why were you single?”
“At first because having a girlfriend just wasn’t a priority for me,” Victor admitted. “I was building my business, and then getting it fully legitimate, and all that. And then—once I was rich—I didn’t really trust anyone anymore. Not fully. And to date someone, to fall in love with them, you have to trust them to at least some extent.”
Danielle thought about that. Had she trusted the men she’d been in love with in the past? How definitely can you say that you know you were in love with them? The feelings she’d had for those men just weren’t the same as what she found herself feeling for Victor. Not since her first teenage crush, at least—and that she’d only really felt recently.
“So, you’re saying you trust me?” Victor chuckled.
“Well I trust you to spend my money responsibly, funding charities and projects and things,” he pointed out.
“That is a good point,” Danielle agreed. By then their drinks arrived at the table, and their snacks were right behind them, interrupting the conversation. Danielle sampled the deviled eggs, thinking that her mom’s recipe was just a little tangier, and the beetroot—with the olive tapenade and goat cheese that came with it—and clinked her glass against Victor’s to sip her drink.
Any thought of her brother was a million miles away; all Danielle could think of was getting through dinner quickly—while still enjoying it—and bringing Victor back to her apartment to show him how much she appreciated his trust. Whatever else happened between them, she could
n’t help but feel grateful that he felt for her, that he’d inspired such feelings in her. It wasn’t just the great sex; it was something deeper, and even if Danielle wasn’t yet ready to confront what that could be, she was happy to enjoy it.
Chapter15
Victor wasn’t at all surprised to discover that Danielle’s apartment was—if smaller and less expensively furnished than his own—beautiful, and nearly spotlessly clean. Bet a hundred thousand she spent way more time than she should have cleaning it before you came over, he thought wryly as he kicked off his shoes at the door, following Danielle’s example. Her furniture was plainer, and a little more worn than his, and the rug showed signs of being sun-faded, but it was obvious—if he’d ever doubted it—that she had good taste.
“I have a bottle of wine for us, if you’re interested,” Danielle said, sounding almost shy, and Victor smiled at her.
“I’d love some,” he said.
“It’s a Malbec, from Argentina,” Danielle told him. “The guy at the wine shop told me it would be good for after dinner.” Victor almost laughed and then stopped himself; he could just picture Danielle going into a wine shop, all business, asking about what kind of wine she should buy.
Not being swayed by the clerk’s more outlandish ideas, but instead giving him a specific price range and asking smart questions, all because she wanted to look cultured—for him. She might not be ready to admit she has actual feelings for me, but you can tell she does, he thought, his body warming up at the thought of all the trouble Danielle had gone to for their date.
She poured the wine and led him into the living room, and Victor thought about how best to move things on from the post-dinner glow and into the intimate state that he wanted. Ever since he’d arrived at the Franklin Institute and collected their tickets, he had been on the point of being ready to have sex with Danielle, assuming she wanted it.
When has she ever not wanted it? One of the reasons—when he’d thought about reasons, after the run-in with the journalist outside of his office—that he liked her so much, Victor knew, was because she seemed to have an identical libido to his. There never seemed to be a time when he wanted it and she didn’t, or she wanted it and he didn’t.
