by Doyle, S
He was shaking his head, his hand over his heart. “Could you have done that any slower?”
“Nope. That was slow enough.”
He smiled and she knew he was out of her league on many different levels. But she decided there was really nothing to lose. This was just about having some fun. Something that was sorely lacking in her life.
“Hello, Sinead who spells her name correctly.”
“Hello, David.”
He guided her around to the passenger door and opened it for her. She settled in and fastened her seatbelt while he did the same. It was late August in San Francisco, which meant the weather could be anywhere from the mid-eighties and sunny or the low fifties and foggy.
Today was somewhere in between, which made Sinead grateful she’d brought her sweater. She thought about what the convertible was going to do to her straightened hair, but she was willing to sacrifice it for the thrill.
Hot guy. Hot car. Oh yeah, this was definitely stepping out of her comfort zone.
“So where are we going?” she asked.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you ready? I hope you like food.”
“I like food,” she said as if that was obvious.
“Well then I have secured reservations for us at… wait for it… Saison.”
Sinead blinked. “That’s… that’s… that’s like the most expensive restaurant there is. It’s a three-star Michelin restaurant. I can’t… I mean look at me.”
David frowned at her obvious upset. “I’m not sure I follow.”
Sinead huffed. “I can’t go to a restaurant like that dressed like this. And please don’t suggest that I go home and change, because I promise you I have nothing in my closet appropriate for a place like that. I’m a cop. Maybe that means something different where you are from…”
“No,” he said, cutting her off. “I completely understand. Think no more of it. Change in plans.”
Sinead relaxed a second before the guilt set in. Who knew what it took to get reservations at a place like that? Maybe he’d been looking forward to this for months and she’d shut it down because of her insecurities.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This was probably a big deal for you, if you would rather…” She didn’t know how to finish that statement. As good-looking as he was, even David would find it a challenge to secure another date within hours who had the appropriate wardrobe to dress for Saison.
“I told you no worries. I’m simply changing the direction on the GPS.”
Twenty minutes later they were turning onto Stockton Street in Nob Hill. There was a valet person in front of the Neiman Marcus department store, which seemed to satisfy him.
He pulled up to the valet, hopped out of the car and made his way to her side. Normally Sinead wasn’t someone who waited for a man to open her doors. Not that she had dated a lot of guys who would even know to do that. But it was her surprise at their stop that had kept her rooted in her seat.
He held his hand to her and she took it, but the suspicion was already creeping in on her.
“What are we doing here?”
“We’re here to buy you an appropriate outfit. One in which you will feel comfortable at Saison.”
He tossed his keys to the valet and started ushering her inside until she stopped walking. “You can’t do that,” she said.
He sighed and turned to face her, taking her hands in his.
“Sinead, listen to me. I am a very wealthy man. I could impress you with land holdings and business accomplishments, but frankly it’s all really boring. It does, however, mean I can buy whatever I want whenever I want it. Which if you think about it seems really unfair when you consider the rest of the world, but there it is. There is no changing this fact. We can sit here and play the game if you want. No I couldn’t possibly. It’s too expensive. You just met me.”
All of that he said in a high falsetto voice.
She raised her eyebrows as if to suggest she didn’t care for the imitation, but he continued.
“Or we can go in there, find you a dress and shoes, possibly a brassiere depending on the dress you pick out, and be done with it. There are no strings. There are no obligations. I like fine food and good company and I want both tonight.”
Sinead wished it could be that simple, but of course nothing expensive came without strings and obligations. Her father had taught her nothing if not that.
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” he contradicted. “We’re at a store. You need a fancy dress. Our reservations aren’t for another hour or so.”
“Why me? I mean look at you. You’re beautiful and funny. And apparently rich. You should be here with some supermodel, not me.”
David moved in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her back and bent down to kiss her forehead. “First of all, supermodels are way less fun than you think. They don’t eat, so taking them to fancy restaurants is pointless. Second, I’m here with you because you intrigue me and I like a good mystery.”
She pulled back, away from him. “I am the least intriguing person I know. I work, I stay out of trouble. That is it. That is the sum total of me.”
He shook his head. “When you came to the house last night you looked at me… well, quite frankly you looked at me like you wanted to take a bite out of me. I thought, well, how refreshing is that? You didn’t know me. You didn’t know my name or anything about me, yet it was all there written on your face.”
“Great. Add obvious to my lists of faults.”
“It’s not a fault and it’s not obvious. It’s honesty. You weren’t playing a game. You didn’t have an agenda. You were just being you and looking at me like you were interested. Trust me when I tell you I haven’t had that in a very long time. Beyond giving a boon to my ego, I thought I would love to have a conversation with somebody that honest. Yes, Sinead, you intrigue me. And in order for me to have the food that I want and the conversation that I want, I need to purchase a dress. Please let’s make that happen.”
Sinead looked at him for a moment, and then he changed his expression to something between a puppy dog and a small boy. She thought of all the reasons why it was an extremely bad idea. Then, like she had last night, she acted against her inclinations.
“Fine, but I get to pick out the dress. I’m not buying something ridiculous because you like tits and ass.”
He frowned. “I do like tits and ass, but agreed.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, she was walking out of a dressing room in a bad imitation of Pretty Woman. The dress was black and sophisticated in front, backless and sexy in the back. It had built-in support cups, lacking the need for a brassiere, which she planned to inform him was not really a word people used anymore.
Similar to gussied.
The shoes were black patent Jimmy Choos. Because why not? If you’re selling your soul, it should at least be for a pair of Choos. Looking in the mirror, she thought she looked elegant and sexy, which were two words she had never once in her life used to describe herself.
He sat in a chair in the corner of the staging area, as the saleswoman had called it. The dressing rooms were down the hall, but this was just a room with mirrors and a raised platform so a person could see herself from all angles.
She turned to him and raised her arms. “Well?”
“You look amazing,” he said rather solemnly.
“It’s like fifteen hundred dollars together with the shoes.”
He gasped. “My goodness! We’ll have to leave a shoe behind.”
She flipped him the bird, which made him chuckle. Then he slowly unraveled from the small fancy chair, and when he reached the platform she realized she was slightly taller than him. There was something powerful in that. In having the slightest advantage over someone like him.
“It’s already paid for. I had your clothes boxed along with the garment bag for the dress with the receipt in case you later change your mind, and had it all sent down to the
car.”
“Excellent.” Because she thought it was something someone who was rich would say.
“Then we should be off. Because do you know what I’m thinking right now?”
“No.”
“I’m looking into the mirror behind you where I can see nearly all of your creamy back, and I’m thinking that if I put my hands in just the right spot in the collar, I could tear this dress off you and see the rest of your creamy naked body in all these mirrors. How is that for honesty?”
“Pretty honest,” Sinead told him, even as she hopped down from the raised platform, pleased that she didn’t wobble in her new shoes. Then she looked over her shoulder at him. “But sex is officially off the table. I can’t accept a dress and nice shoes and then turn around and bang you. It’s the principle of it.”
“Forever?”
No, she thought. Definitely not forever. “For now.”
He tilted his head back as if talking to his God. “Intriguing and challenging. I’m going to be hard all night.” Then he looked at her. “Let’s go. I’m… hungry.”
Chapter 3
They were seated in a booth. The wine was the color of dark cherries. Sinead had already recognized a popular actor as they made their way to their seats.
Not Charlie Hunnam and not as hot as David, so it really didn’t matter. Still, it was like being in another world.
She shared a crappy two-bedroom with her father, who she sort of loved and sort of hated. She commuted nearly forty minutes to work every day to be a cop in a mostly suburban area, where the most excitement she’d had in the last month had been answering a call of a house alarm gone off.
Now she was here, dressed to fit in at the best restaurant in San Francisco, with the man who had the face of an angel, but who was clearly more devil.
The waiter brought a plate of food they hadn’t ordered, and Sinead looked at David who was studying it.
“Do they use mental telepathy to simply decide what to serve you?”
“I put a request in to let the chef prepare our meal. It’s always best to simply go with the flow. You get the best that way.”
“And you’re a man who always gets the best?”
He smiled. “I always want the best. Frankly, I don’t understand people who don’t. Why have the second best? Or something that’s just okay? We’re on this earth for what I’m learning is a ridiculously short amount of time. Why not try to enjoy it to the utmost?” He took what appeared to be a small toasted baguette topped with something dark and round and popped it into his mouth.
Sinead waited for his reaction, which was to close his eyes and groan softly. A sound that went straight between her legs.
When he opened his eyes again he smiled. “The best. Now your turn.”
Sinead looked at the appetizer. Or was it an amuse bouche? She wasn’t so classless she didn’t know the difference between the two. Still, she had absolutely no idea what was on the piece of toast.
“Don’t be squeamish.”
“I’m not.”
Truly she didn’t know if she was or not. She’d never had the opportunity to know if she could handle haute cuisine, which rarely served things she was used to, like… chicken.
Deciding this night was all about taking risks, she reached for the bite-sized morsel on the plate and popped it into her mouth. An explosion of flavors burst in her mouth and she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, until she finally decided it was a good thing.
She smiled. “Yum.”
“Yum, she says. I’m certain the chef will be pleased.”
Sinead reached for the wine and took a sip, and the combination of the two was even more interesting.
“Tell me what you do,” she said as a way to distract herself from watching him eat. In her life she’d never thought watching a man consume food would be sexy. That was until she met him.
“What I do?”
“For work. I mean why are you here? I assume it’s business.”
“Some, yes. I have an interest in a little startup that I thought I would pop over and check up on, and I have some legal matters I need to take care of.”
“You’re not talking like… Google?”
He chuckled. “No. Something far less ambitious I’m afraid. Although perhaps in the future. One never knows. Mostly I’m here because I wanted to run away.”
“What did you want to run away from?”
“Home. Isn’t that what all people want to run away from?”
Sinead didn’t say anything to that. Too many memories would cloud her princess-for-a-day date and she didn’t want them intruding. Instead she waited for him to explain.
Leaning forward, he reached for his wine glass, looking more at it than her. “As I said earlier I’m rather a known commodity back in London. The circle of people I mingle with is fairly small, and I started to feel like… none of them were real. Just bodies with money. Looking for the next thing to buy, the next thing to get high with, the next method of maintaining their youth and beauty. I started to feel like maybe I wasn’t real anymore either. Like I was playing this part, but I had long ago lost who I was as a person. I didn’t care for the feeling. A lucky coincidence my mate rang and needed a place to stay after his holiday—and I thought two birds, one stone. I could check on my interests here and maybe take a break from being myself.”
“What happened to his wife?”
“Sorry?”
“Your friend. The pictures you had were of his wedding, but you only ever mention him. Not him and his wife.”
David rolled his eyes. “Oh, didn’t I mention that his wedding was the single best day of their relationship? Every day after that was shit. They divorced recently.”
“Jaded much?”
“About relationships? I am, I’m afraid. My last one was… toxic. What about you?”
Sinead thought about Harry, who she’d dated for about six months over two years ago. He was a nice guy. They had nice sex. They didn’t talk much to each other really, and eventually it just ended. Not with a fight or any formal breakup. More it was like they realized how absolutely and completely passionless they were as a couple.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I haven’t had any great experiences, but I know love exists.”
“Your parents?”
She nodded. “They were really in love. So much that it basically destroyed my dad when she died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. It was a long time ago. I was sixteen.”
“Does that mean you don’t miss her?”
“No.” She nodded, liking that he understood. “I miss her every day still.”
“Where is your father now?”
Sinead didn’t really want to talk about her father. She didn’t want to explain to the sophisticated, wealthy businessman that her dad had been a good cop, then a bad cop. Then a low-level criminal who probably collected protection money for the mob.
“He’s in San Francisco,” she said vaguely.
Another plate arrived fortunately to prevent him from asking any more questions. This was a fish course, which was evident by the fact that the actual fish heads and tails were still on the plate.
For the rest of the evening, Sinead ate food she never would have considered, drank wine she guessed cost more than her shoes, and let herself be captivated by all that was David.
They ended up making their way to Fisherman’s Wharf, where she removed her shoes and walked alongside him barefoot like a boho. The sharp briny smell of the water and the seals filled the air while people milled around the restaurants and shops.
To say it had been the best date she’d ever had was an understatement, and it made her think of what he said before. Why not want the best? Why settle? Something she’d been doing for way too long with her life.
She wanted to capture this moment. She reached for the small black purse that fortunately worked with her dress and took out her cell phone. “Take a picture with
me,” she said as she pressed against him and held the phone. Except he removed it from her hand instead.
“I hate pictures, and I most especially hate selfies,” he said. “But I’ll take a picture of you in your lovely dress. Put on your shoes.”
She did and pressed her hand on her hip in what she hoped looked sexy, but probably looked like someone trying to be sexy.
“You’re stunning,” he murmured in her ear even as he handed her the phone back.
“You’re full of shit. But I don’t care. I had a nice time,” she said because she wanted him to know.
“I did as well. Are you free tomorrow?”
She was. She didn’t have another shift until the following evening. For a second she considered saying no. As if too much of a good thing might ruin what she’d just had, which had been perfect.
Then she realized how ridiculous that sounded in her head. “I am.”
“Excellent,” he began as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they started back to the parking garage. “Now, tomorrow I will not be buying you expensive clothing and shoes.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Which means I will be using my considerable powers to talk you into having sex with me. I thought I would put that out there now, so there is no mistaking my intentions.”
Sinead nodded. “Understood. However, as a cautious woman, who is wary of handsome strangers, I will be doing everything in my power to resist your incredible charms so you understand I’m not an easy lay. Just so there is no mistaking my intentions.”
David stopped her then and took her hand, sinking his hand into hers until their fingers were locked. He pulled her back to him. “Tell me I’m not a stranger to you still?”
No, she thought. He didn’t feel like a stranger. Instead he felt like someone she’d known for a long time. Which was scary and probably should have set off alarms. But she was still on her princess-for-a-day date, so she didn’t listen to any of them.
“You’re not a stranger.”
“Who am I?”
“You’re David.”
