Saltwater Kisses (The Kisses 1)

Tomorrow night. Wear something fancy. I’m taking you to La Maison.

I grinned. La Maison wasn’t the fanciest restaurant in New York, but it was pretty close. More important than the fanciness of the restaurant was the significance it held for Jack. La Maison was the restaurant that his father always took his mother for special anniversaries. It was where Daniel proposed to Bianca, so having Jack take me there meant something.

Do I get you all to myself?

I told Jeannette she’s fired if she interrupts us tomorrow.

I’ll be there with bells on. I typed back. I hit send and turned off the light, snuggling into the soft down comforter. I would have to have Rachel help me pick out something; tomorrow was going to be a great day.

Chapter 16

I was a princess, a beautiful, only slightly slutty, princess. I smoothed the fabric of my dress over my knees as the car stopped in front of La Maison. The driver hurried out and opened the door, helping me out onto the sidewalk. I saw the people on the street turn and look at me, and was once again glad Rachel had helped me pick out my outfit.

The dress was a fitted black fabric that somehow shone purple in the light and had a slit up my thigh that my father would have considered indecent. It was made by a designer whose name I could barely pronounce, but who Rachel said was the biggest thing in fashion right now. I took a step and wobbled, but the driver reached out a hand to steady me. Rachel had chosen the shoes as well—black strappy stilettos that made me feel as tall as a New York skyscraper, but not quite as stable. Between the slit and the shoes, my legs looked long enough to make swimsuit models jealous.

My hair was piled in effortless looking curls that cascaded down my back. It had taken the hairdresser almost two hours and was anything but effortless. Rachel had procured me a diamond necklace with matching dangling earrings that I couldn’t afford if I used every paycheck in my lifetime. The jewelry was gorgeous, but I had this nagging fear that the earrings were going to slip out of my ears, or the chain would break on the necklace and I would lose one of the sparkling stones. I could just see them falling off and bouncing down the street as I scrambled to chase them in my insane heels. The tabloid headlines would be spectacular. As a result, I checked impulsively every minute or two to make sure the jewels hadn’t abandoned me.

The restaurant was in a tall brick building from the 1920s. It screamed old money, and it was beautiful. I stepped inside, glad of the warmth in the restaurant. Someone took the simple black wrap Rachel had chosen to complete my ensemble and we headed into the main part of the restaurant.

Every eye in the restaurant followed as the maître d’ escorted me to the table where Jack was waiting. I sent a silent, Thank you, up to Rachel for making sure that they all saw something fashionable and worthy of a billionaire.

I suddenly understood how Cinderella felt arriving at the ball. Every head in the restaurant turned and watched as I floated gracefully through the tables. For once in my life though, I didn’t care that they were looking. The dress gleamed in purple highlights as I approached the only eyes that I cared about. Jack stood as he saw me, his mouth hanging open slightly. Our eyes connected, and I was Cinderella meeting my Prince.

Jack moved to greet me, pulling out my chair and waiting on me like a gentleman. As I approached the table, Jack reached his hand out for mine, to guide me into my chair and I reached back for him. Time slowed, and for a brief second, everything was perfect. I never touched his hand though, as a guest at the next table suddenly pivoted and took my picture.

The flash was blinding and I stumbled in my ridiculous shoes. I caught myself on the back of the chair, lights suddenly flashing from all directions. Jack had the first man’s camera in his hands, but more popped up, their flashes lighting up the room like broken lightning.

Cameras were everywhere, the waiters and guests making everything chaotic. There were too many cameras pointed in my direction. I panicked and turned to escape back the way I came, but the flashes were everywhere. I took a step forward, but a light went off directly in my eyes and I ran directly into something hard. Wheeling to catch myself, my shoes betrayed me and I fell to the ground. I came down hard on my wrist, a yelp of pain escaping. The restaurant went quiet except for the clicks and buzzes of cameras.

Suddenly strong arms surrounded me, picking me up and scooping me away. I buried my face into Jack’s chest, smelling his cologne, feeling his arms tighten protectively around me as he whisked me away towards the kitchen. His chest vibrated with a growl and I didn’t dare remove my face from the protection of his jacket. I could still hear the flashes popping as we disappeared

behind the serving door and the startled yells of kitchen staff as Jack barreled through towards the back alley.

He stopped at the back door, the only sounds following us were of the kitchen staff chopping and sautéing. The photographers were yelling at the kitchen door, but security held the door closed. Jack set me down gently, making sure my feet were firmly planted before pulling out his phone and hitting a number.

“In the alley! Now!” he growled before slamming the phone back into his jacket pocket. I kept holding onto him, my fingers clinging to the starched white fabric of his dress shirt. A car peeled into the alley and Jack opened the back door and hurried me out into the blustering winter night, carefully shielding me from the wind as we stepped to the car.

“Are you alright?” He asked once we were in the car, his voice low and gruff. I couldn’t see his face in the dimness of the car, but I could hear the anger in his voice. I nodded.

“I think so. I hurt my wrist, but, I think it will be alright,” I said as I held onto the offending wrist with my opposite hand. It had a dull ache, but nothing a couple of pain relievers and a night’s sleep wouldn’t fix.

“Let me see,” he said gently. He reached over and took my wrist in his hands. They were so warm compared to the cold outside. He squeezed gently, his fingers searching for any injury.

“You’re shaking. Carl, turn up the heat!”

“I forgot my wrap at the restaurant,” I said quietly, suddenly remembering I didn’t have it. With my free hand, I checked the earrings and necklace to make sure I still had them. I felt a small sigh of relief escape my lungs at finding the jewels still secured to my body. Jack kept running his fingers along the sensitive skin of my inner wrist, making me forget the pain. It didn’t hurt anymore, but I didn’t take my wrist back from him.

“I’ll send someone to fetch it later.” His fingers stopped but he held onto my wrist.

“What happened back there anyway?” I asked. I was finally starting to feel warm, the air blowing out of the car heater getting the winter out of the car. I couldn’t stop shaking though.

“I made a mistake.” His voice was gruff, full of anger under the surface.

“What do you mean? There’s no way you could have known those paparazzi were going to be there like that. I mean, they chase me everywhere.” I tried to put a smile into my voice, but I knew it was still shaky.

“I have eaten at that restaurant a hundred times. When I made the reservations, I didn’t even think about their security. I should have let my security check the place out, but the manager said they had sufficient security for us. I didn’t have Rachel do it because I wanted to do this myself.” He held my wrist up. “I should have let her set it up. It is my fault you got hurt.”

“Jack, it isn’t your fault that I’m a klutz and I tripped—”