“Of course I did. When I saw you that first day staring at me across the conference table, I already had your number.”
“Well, that’s not fair,” I say with a pout, although it comes out a lust-filled whisper.
“I don’t play fair.”
“So you liked me while I hated the thought of you?”
He nods. “It’s easy to hate the devil. So no offense taken.”
I laugh, the nervousness dissipating. The drink Adrian made for me is helping. His expression intensifies, though, and he takes another sip of whiskey. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re the devil anymore.” Without thinking much of it, I raise my drink and confide in him, “That name is solely reserved for my ex-husband now.”
His next question is casual: “What happened between you and your ex?”
Immediately I regret bringing Carl up in conversation at all. His name is the equivalent to an ice water bath.
I’m over that man, and I’ll never want him again, but it still causes an old pain in my heart to talk about it. Luckily, the pang of betrayal is over quickly, and I can answer Adrian honestly. “He cheated … with the company secretary.”
Anger darkens his features. “So he was a fucking idiot. Got it.”
“No. Not an idiot. He was a manipulative bastard and damn good at it.” My throat is tight as I correct him, once again feeling like a fool. “It wasn’t just once, either. He had an affair for over two years. He used her to get details he shouldn’t have been privy to.”
Adrian takes a step closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice rumbling through me. “I’m sorry he hurt you and took advantage of you.” He seems to make a decision. “My last ex was somewhat similar when it came to dishonesty.”
Setting the glass down I admit to him, “I googled your name and love interest.”
“You tried to look up my dating history?” He grins at me as if it’s comical. “Did you find anything?”
“No,” I state and he chuckles at my pursed lips.
There’s almost no information online about Adrian’s love life, as if it’s been purposefully kept offline or scrubbed from the internet. There are companies that will do that for a person, and Adrian has enough money to hire them. Though most people don’t care so much about erasing their exes from history.
“What happened with your ex?”
He drains his glass and pours another, taking in a deep breath. Just then, the intercom at his door rings, stealing his attention.
“One moment,” he tells me and Adrian goes to answer.
“Food’s here, Mr. Bradford.”
“Bring it up.”
It’s quiet as he pours his whiskey, and I attempt a bit of small talk thanking him for dinner.
A doorman appears a minute later, in gray slacks with a shiny black name tag on his crisp white shirt, and two bags in hand. I cling to the tumbler, feeling out of place once again.
Adrian takes the bags out to the living room, where there’s a massive sofa and a coffee table large enough to dine on.
As I slip off the stool, he opens the bags and lays out the containers on the table.
“The view is better in here,” he tells me and when I reach the sofa, my hand on the soft leather, he peeks up at me to add, “and touching you will be far easier here.”
A blush creeps up into my cheeks and I take the seat next to him. The savory smells of basil and marinara waft toward me.
“Italian?”
“Have you had Scalini Fedeli before?”
I shake my head gently, glass still in hand. “I haven’t.”
There’s that hum again, that satisfied hum coming just before he balls up the paper bags. Rising from his seat, he tells me I’m going to love it.
As he plates the food, capellini with prosecco, porcini ravioli and arugula and buffalo mozzarella salad, my mouth waters. I do however notice that the conversation from the kitchen has stopped altogether.
Maybe he’s not going to tell me. It’s obviously a painful subject if he’s just going to move on from it. Curiosity flares again, but I don’t want to ask the question. I’d rather sit with him, enjoy this meal and wait for more of those deep rumbles from him.
“She never loved me,” Adrian says, breaking the silence after the food is plated. “She never even wanted to be with me. She was with someone else the entire time.”
“Oh my God.” My heart breaks for him. I know this feeling so well. I wish I didn’t, because it means my ex was a horrible person who wasted my time, but I know the betrayal that’s coursing through his veins. It makes you feel so sick and stupid. Like you should have known all along what was happening, but you didn’t.