“You’re a smart man. Maybe you should find another woman because I’m going to do everything in my power to stop any relationship between you two.”
He stands and asks in a hushed whisper, “Is that a threat?”
“No. Just a promise. She’s mine.”
He chuckles with a cocky grin on his face. “And yet, she’s on a date with me.” His phone goes off in his pocket like instant karma. “Son of a bitch.” He pulls it out and mutes it, but the phone rings again. “It looks like you won this round, but unless she says otherwise, Anabelle and I are dating, so you’ll need to find a new pretty little thing.”
“We’ll see about that.” I want to knock his teeth out right now, but it won’t help my cause and I’d put up with a lot of shit to avoid creating bad publicity for the restaurants.
“May the best man win.” His phone doesn’t stop ringing.
“Maybe you should answer that.”
“Maybe you should mind your own fucking business.” Still, he answers his phone. “Dr. Malcolm speaking. Yes. Very well. I’ll be there shortly.” He huffs and ends the call, tossing his napkin.
I look in the direction of the restrooms and see Anabelle make her way toward us. She looks good enough to eat. I stare at her sexy dress that shows her thigh with every other step like a little peek-a-boo game, and my dick stiffens on the spot. Hot, seething jealousy simmers as I see what she wore for him. Not for me, but just for Dr. Malcolm. The prick. I’ve never hated anyone more than I hate him at this instant.
“Excuse me,” he says with a smile, walking around me to Anabelle who looks breathtaking in that long green dress. “I’m sorry, beautiful, but I have to go into the hospital.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“I really am sorry. I didn’t want this night to end.” He cups her face and kisses her cheek. She blushes and rubs her cheek while he walks away, winking at me.
Fuck, I’m losing big time. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Anabelle, and I never will. She’s all I’ve thought about since our one-minute conversation, and seeing her in person only amplifies this attraction that’s fucking unexplainable and yet so visceral.
“Now that he’s gone, maybe we should discuss the plans,” I say, hoping to get her to join me for dinner.
“Sorry, but I really should be going. I’ll have your materials ready come time for our meeting.” She takes her coat off the rack next to their table and slides it over her sexy arms.
“Anabelle,” I call out. She turns to look at me, but I hear a raised voice at one of the tables.
Again, my server interrupts my pursuit of Anabelle with a problem from another patron.
“I’ll see you Monday afternoon.”
She nods and rushes outside. It takes a while to deal with the unhappy customer and have their order made as requested. Still, I run outside with the hope that our valet has taken too long to get her car and she’s still there, but no such luck.
She’s gone.
“Everything okay, sir?” I turn to see one of my valets, Mario, standing next to me with a look mixed with curiosity and concern.
“Yes, Mario.” A stiff wind blows, sending a chill through my body, and then I remember that I ran outside without a coat. No wonder he thinks something is wrong.
“Is Isabelle okay?” he asks out of the blue.
“Yes, why?”
“Well, I greeted her before she left and well, she wasn’t as friendly as usual.”
I chuckle because most can’t see the difference between the two women, but I can. It’s her eyes and her voice. God, my dick’s getting hard again, despite the freezing weather. “Oh. Mario, she wasn’t Isabelle. The woman in the beautiful cream coat was her sister, Anabelle. They’re twins.”
“Wow, double the beauty. I’ve got twin cousins, and those guys are double the ugly.” That makes me laugh, allowing my temper to calm down.
“Will Isabelle be returning soon?”
I nod. “Yes. In a couple of days, right before the holiday rush.”
“Good. Andre’s a great chef, but her food is special.”
“Don’t tell him that.” I wink and clap his back before walking back into the restaurant because my hard-on has finally subsided, thanks to the frigid air.
I get several looks from customers, but they’re all the kind I get for being quite a celebrity. I never expected that status, but eight years down the road and I’m still a super-popular chef and restauranteur. Although, I hardly spend time in the kitchen these days. It’s something I miss, but the business end of things makes it a bit difficult.
“Sir, will that table not be returning?” Colin asks. He’s a good kid and always trying to please, at sixteen. He comes from a very poor family with an abusive father, so he is eager to get my approval.