“What kind?”
“In my mind,” Leyla said, “there’s nothing but merlot.”
“Good choice.”
A sommelier approached the table, and Kane didn’t bother looking at the menu before ordering “a bottle of the best merlot.”
Leyla heard her phone vibrate in her purse. No doubt, London was already asking for details on the evening. Ignoring it, along with the panic a table setting with five pieces of cutlery was causing her, she took a careful sip of water.
“Thank you for asking me out tonight. I’m already having a good time.”
Kane scooted his seat closer to the table. “We’ve hardly gotten started.”
“Trust me. This is much more exciting than what I do most nights.”
“And what do you do most nights?” His gaze, fixated on her face, made her tingly all over.
It took a few seconds to formulate an answer.
“Mostly, hang out at home with London and her dog. Lately, do some pre-production work on a film I want to make.”
“No kidding. A short?”
“No.” She sat a little taller. “It’s a feature.”
“That’s amazing. When are you filming?”
“That’s, um, that’s yet to be determined.”
She fiddled with her napkin. Maybe talking about her film wasn’t the best idea. She’d been feeling really good until she’d brought it up.
“What’s it called?”
“I don’t have a title for it, yet.” She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Luckily, the sommelier returned with their wine, which saved her from having to talk more about the movie.
As the two of them watched, the man who had created a whole career out of knowing and serving wine showed them the label, popped the cork, and poured Leyla a taste. With Kane’s gaze on her, she lifted the wine glass to her lips and took a slow, calculated taste.
A long moment passed as the cocoa and fruity notes settled on her tongue then dissolved into a clean finish.
“We can get a different bottle,” Kane said.
The sommelier nodded earnestly. “There is a wonderful cabernet that our head sommelier brought in only today. No one else has had it yet, save the chef, and he claims it’s the best cabernet he’s tasted in years.”
It took all of Leyla’s strength to hold back laughter. Both men stared at her, waiting for her word. Like she was a princess or something.
“This bottle is good,” she said.
It was an understatement. The wine was the best she’d ever had.
With a satisfied nod, the sommelier filled both their glasses, set the bottle on the table, bowed, and left. Not ten seconds later, a man in a black tux appeared and introduced himself as their waiter.
“All I know,” Leyla said, “is that I want whatever your best pasta dish is.”
Screw eating skinny food because she was on a date. She’d never bought into that nonsense.
Kane’s deep laugh warmed her down to her toes. “That sounds like a good idea.”
“And an appetizer?” the waiter asked. “Perhaps the panko-crusted eggplant topped with pickled beets and Robiola? La Quercia Nduja?”
Leyla had no idea what that last one was, but she made a noise of acknowledgment like she’d had it just the other day.
“Both, please,” Kane answered.
“Wonderful, Mr. Clayton.” Bowing just as the sommelier had, the waiter went to put in the order.
“It seems I picked the right restaurant, after all,” Kane said.
“I have to be honest; I’m not really picky. I could find something to eat anywhere we went.”
“Still,” he mused. “I wanted to impress you, but it seems that’s not easily done.”
Leyla threw her head back with laughter. She thought about telling him that she was actually nervous and feeling very much like a fish out of water, but it was kind of fun letting him think nothing fazed her.
“If you want to keep trying,” she settled on saying, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
“Challenge accepted.” Kane raised his wine glass.
“I look forward to seeing what you come up with.” She clinked her glass against his in a toast.
Chapter 6
Kane
From over the top of his wine glass, Kane surveyed the striking woman seated across from him. They hadn’t even received their appetizers yet, and already, she’d captivated him.
Though he really did enjoy Italian food, the full truth was that he’d brought her to Flavio’s in order to see how she acted when put into an opulent situation.
He wasn’t sure what to make of her not batting an eye at the fine-dining setting. From all the information he’d gleaned of her, she hadn’t grown up in anything even remotely resembling an upper-class situation.
Yet, she wore the atmosphere like she’d been born for it. Like royalty.
Had she been living a double life that even Kane’s investigator hadn’t been unable to unearth? One where she snuck away to Sharrain and spent nights and days as a member of the king’s family before returning back to Texas and becoming a regular person once more?
It seemed rather extreme, but he was no expert on the matter.
Hopefully, any questions he had would soon be answered. The real complication, though, was the matter of money.
If she was used to such a fine lifestyle, how would an offer of a million dollars look? Would she sniff at the check he’d decided to write her in exchange for marriage?
Or, suppose she didn’t need any money at all, thanks to her mother’s cousin. It could be that no amount of money Kane could offer would be enough for her to enter into an arrangement with him.
Then again, the woman lived in a small apartment where the halls smelled musty. If she had money or was used to fine things, why not move into a nicer place?
“What’s your favorite restaurant in Austin?” Leyla asked.
“Hm.” He took his time, savoring a sip of wine. “There’s this little barbecue place. It’s not very popular, and I can’t understand why. I swear, it’s the best brisket in the whole city.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where is it?”
“Off Oak street, right between this vintage store and a record spot.”
“Oh my God!” Leyla clapped her hands together. “I love that place!”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes. My mom and I found it, like, super randomly years ago, and we’ve been…” Her lashes fluttered, and her voice dropped. “I mean, we used to go a lot. She passed away a few months ago.”
Kane’s heart twisted. That’s right.
“I’m so sorry.”
Leyla nodded, not looking at him. “Thanks. It was cancer.”
A lump formed in his throat. “My dad died from cancer as well.”
“Really?” Her gaze finally found his.
“Yes.” He kept his eyes on her chocolate ones. “Six months ago.”
“Wow,” Leyla breathed. “That wasn’t long ago.”
“Neither was losing your mom.”
“Sometimes it seems like just yesterday,” she whispered, “and sometimes it seems lifetimes ago.”