“Then take the help and don’t look a gift horse in the horseshoe.”
“It’s don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“That’s dumb. I’m changing it.”
I laugh because only Carter can manage to turn an awkward conversation to giggles.
“So take his help,” I say, looking at myself once more in the mirror.
“Damn straight.”
What have I gotten myself into?
Since Drew picked me up, he hasn’t stopped staring. And as a result, I can’t stop fidgeting. My cheeks are warm, and my knees wobbly. The three-inch stilettos that Carter insisted on aren’t helping. Serves me right for taking fashion advice from a man who clearly only dates Barbies.
Drew and I are being ushered through a dimly lit, swanky Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side, right down the street from the brunch place. This place screams three-star Michelin, and I feel out of place even in this exceptional dress.
As if he read my mind, he lowers his lips to my ear, and whispers, “You look incredible.”
I shiver. Whether from his words or his touch, I haven’t a clue. Maybe it’s the ambiance of the place. Romantic above reason. Or maybe it’s all the thoughts roaming my brain this afternoon.
When I went to the beauty bar and the woman fixed my hair and makeup, Carter’s words played on a loop.
Drew wants to help you. He cares.
But why?
Why is he hell-bent on it?
Does he have a savior complex?
Is it what Carter said? Is it because I remind him of his own twisted past?
Is he righting a wrong with me?
Or is it something else?
That last part is my mind’s way of toying with me. Drew is not good for me. Especially with my tendency to get hooked.
But I can’t deny I’m attracted to him.
I can’t deny that the attention he gives me makes me weak in the knees. He’s the guy a girl could easily fall in love with. Add in that devilish grin that turns me to mush and . . . fuck.
He’s already pulled me under his spell.
“Bailey,” Drew calls from across the table.
We’ve been sitting here for who knows how long. My mind has been elsewhere for the greater part of the past few minutes. Everything he’s said is completely lost on me.
“Hmm?” I murmur, reluctantly bringing my eyes to meet his.
I don’t want to look at him. The truth is, I’m not sure if this pull I’m feeling is the real deal or yet another symptom of my addictive personality. Am I lusting after him for the right reasons? Or am I concocting falsities in my head based on something another addict has said? I hate that my mind categorizes Carter as such, but it’s the truth. I have to be careful not to allow others to get into my head.
“You’re far away,” Drew says, cocking his head to the side to watch me.
“I have a lot on my mind,” I say, tearing my eyes from his and toying with the napkin for something to preoccupy me.
“Bailey.” He says my name like a command. “Look at me.”
I do, and the way the glow of the lamps hanging from the walls around us casts shadows across his face makes him all the more mysterious . . . and beautiful.
“I was just thinking, I don’t know much about you,” I say, trying to change the subject.
He bites the inside of his cheek. “What’s to know? I work hard, and I don’t have a lot of time for a social life outside of my club. I’m looking to branch out so that can change.”
“You want a social life?”
“Why not? Life’s short, and I’ve spent the better half of mine working,” he muses.
“What would you do if you had more time?”
He shrugs, placing his napkin on his own lap. “I guess I’d buy a boat.”
I smirk. “Captain Drew?”
He chuckles. “Sure.”
“Hmm.” I consider the options. “I don’t know much about boats, but I love the ones with the open bow.”
“Interesting,” he says. “I can see it, you know.”
I purse my lips. “See what, exactly?”
“You. Seated, leaning back on the front of the boat, the wind blowing through your hair. Not a care in the world.”
As he paints the picture, I can see it too. I smile.
“Sounds amazing.”
“Yeah. A boat for sure,” he says with a smile in his voice.
“What else would you do?”
He appears to ponder that for a moment. “I guess I’d buy a lake house. Somewhere away from the city, where I could just relax.”
“You said you wanted a social life. What you’re explaining sounds more like solitude.”
“I’d invite people to visit.”
“What people?” I challenge, leaning over the table and grinning.
“You, for starters.”
“Employees?” I raise my brow.
“No, Bailey. Just you.”
I sit back, cheeks heating at the intensity of his stare. The feeling akin to being stripped bare.
20
Bailey
The rest of the dinner goes well. We talk about mundane topics, nothing too personal and nothing to do with Silver or his future business dealings.