He revved the engine and she giggled. The whole car shook with power. Without waiting for her answer, he peeled out into the street, letting the sports car zoom and speed away. The car reacted to his slightest touch, turning and speeding as he drove through the city. She didn’t know where they were going, and honestly she didn’t care.
She was in a fancy dress in a fancy car on her way to a fancy restaurant with a handsome and charming man. She was half afraid that if she closed her eyes, she’d open them to find this was all just a wonderful and crazy dream.
“Here we are,” he said, pulling into a parking lot. The restaurant’s green sign lit up the night.
Olive Garden.
She started to laugh. “Now I’m overdressed,” she told him. “It is my idea of fancy, though.”
He grinned and gunned the engine again, pulling back out onto the main road. In just a few more moments, they were in the ritzier part of town.
Emma didn’t come to this area very often. She didn’t have the funds to spend thousands of dollars on a purse or to eat hundred dollar meals. It was fun to walk around and look at the lavish things for sale, but she didn’t do it often. It was too far outside her price range to even look.
“Here we are,” he repeated, pulling into the valet station. The building looked more like a Tuscan mansion than a restaurant.
“So am I to understand that there will be no Olive Garden?” she asked, making him smile.
The valet opened the door to the red sports car and she carefully stepped out. Moving in the long skirt took planning so she didn’t trip over the soft satin fabric.
Mr. Weathers was right at her arm, guiding her into the restaurant. It felt like something out of a movie. This was how kings and queens walked into buildings.
The feeling didn’t stop there. At the reception desk, the staff immediately jumped to attention as they walked in. They didn’t have to give their names or stop to get a table. A man that Emma assumed was the manager escorted them directly to a table next to the window with the best view of the sunset in the state. Mr. Weathers held out her chair for her to sit.
“Champagne?” Mr. Weathers asked, pointing to a bottle cooling next to their table. It looked like one of the fancy brands they kept behind the counter at the liquor store.
“Sure,” Emma replied, settling into her seat. She picked up a menu as Mr. Weathers poured her a glass. The prices alone made her eyes bug out. There was no inexpensive option. She swallowed hard.
“Cheers,” Mr. Weathers said, holding out her glass. She tapped her glass against his and took a sip. The tiny bubbles tickled her nose. “And don’t look at the menu. The chef is making something special for us.”
“Oh.” She set the menu down. “This is amazing, by the way.”
“Well, I am trying to impress you.”
Emma grinned. “I think it might be working.”
He flashed that grin that made her knees go weak, and suddenly she remembered she wasn’t wearing any panties. Her legs rubbed together and she tried to take a sip of champagne to distract herself.
“So, tell me Mr. Weathers, what do you like to do for fun?” she asked him.
“Please, call me Jackson.” He took a sip of champagne. “I like to race cars, I like to travel, and I enjoy trying new things.”
The way his eyes sparkled made her think that each one of those things had something to do with sex. She pressed her legs together a little harder.
“What do you like to do?” he asked, his voice smooth like silk. He watched her with those green eyes of his, following her like she was something amazing.
“Um, I like to babysit for my friend,” she replied, feeling like that wasn’t nearly as good an answer as driving fast cars. “I also like to paint. And swim.”
“What kind of painting?” he asked, looking genuinely interested.
“Watercolors, mostly. I’m not very good yet, but it’s fun.”
“I would imagine you are better than you let on,” he said, sipping at his champagne again. She felt her cheeks heat at the compliment.
“Excuse me, sir,” a waiter interrupted the silence as she flushed. “Your first course.”
The waiter set down two plates in front of them and Emma’s mouth started to water. The plate itself was artwork, with three mushrooms painted with creamy melted cheese.
“Bacon and cream cheese mushrooms,” Jackson told her, picking up his fork. “They’re my favorite appetizer.”