Derrick had told me to meet him at Per Se, which is on the fourth floor of the Shoppes at Time Warner. Per Se is like the most expensive restaurant in New York, and the only one in the city to be awarded 3 Michelin stars. So I'm a bit nervous by the time the escalator takes me outside Per Se.
Oh yeah, guess who called twice tonight?
Give up? Jake the Asshole Ex-Boyfriend.
He called once while I was on the phone with Mike and once as I go up the escalator. I sent it to voicemail both times. I have nothing to say to the guy.
The thing is, he’s called a couple more times this week. Whatever.
I’m not even mad at him. I just don’t think of him.
How is that even possible is probably what you’re wondering. Well, it’s empty when I walk in, but Derrick is standing right there in the center of the room and all thoughts of Jake vanish. And that’s why I’m not thinking of Jake at all. Derrick Blaine - dressed in a tuxedo. He cleans up really nice. Oh, my. Jake is an insect compared to this man.
Not that I’m thinking anything, or whatever you might be thinking.
I hate Derrick! Remember?
He looks at me and there's a glint in his eye, followed by a look - what kind of look is that? Like he remembers me from somewhere?
"I cleared the restaurant, love," he says as he walks up to me and places a hand on my back, guiding me to a table placed in the center of the dining room. "I wanted us to have this space to ourselves," he says.
Okay, I'm seriously impressed. People make reservations a month in advance and generally they don't let them go easily. For Derrick to have done this in three days meant contacting each of the people with reservations and giving them something else in exchange. The restaurant would never do that. Even for a Prince. They had too much to lose.
But all I ask is, "Do you do this for all your women?"
Derrick laughs as a waiter pours some sparkling water and brings a tray with two flutes of champagne.
"No, love," he smirks. "This is only for you," he says as he smirks at me again.
I can feel my cheeks blush and I look down for the menu to hide my eyes. But there's no menu yet. The waiters are just bringing out food.
"I hope you realize we're not ordering anything tonight," Derrick says, reading my mind. He grins, "We're signed up for the full Per Se tasting menu."
"What if I'm allergic?" I ask.
"I don't think you are, but let me know, love," he says, that smirk still on his face, as if he's enjoying this. "If you were, it would have been the first thing you'd have said and you would have thought about the menu before anything else. You were too busy instead looking into my eyes."
How cocky of him! But, I blush again. I can't keep doing this! I need to steer the conversation around!
"How do I know this isn't what you do with all your women?" I ask the first thing that comes to mind.
Derrick's face keeps its smirk, but I can tell he's leaving it on there. After a pause, he softens his gaze and looks into my eyes, "Because, love, I don't ever fucking take girls out to dinner. It gets in the way of fucking."
I roll my eyes. There's the Prince Sin I know and hate.
"So why me?" I ask.
"Because when I saw you on stage, I had to meet you," he says, almost immediately. No hesitation. "How long have you been dancing?"
I've always danced. Oh, wait! He means how long have I been stripping!
Somehow I never thought that we'd end up talking about me! I quickly think of the best answer I can come up with. "I've only just started auditioning," I say. "I just need a way to pay my student loans now that I'm out of school."
Hey, it's actually pretty close to the truth. Want to know how much money I picked up from the bills that were being thrown at me that night where I auditioned for two minutes? $187. That's right. For two minutes. You do the math and figure how much I could make.
Also, for what it's worth, this dress was bought with some of those stripper-bucks.
"You can't keep stripping, love," Derrick tells me, looking in my eyes. I look at him and almost melt. He's so hot. His eyes are so soulful when they want to be. I'm ready to nod and agree to end my fake-stripping career right there - I want to do anything he says.