“If it comes to it, I’ll deal with him.” Dane adjusted his cufflink. “Who ended the engagement? You or him?”
“Him,” I reluctantly admitted.
“Why?”
I inwardly groaned. “Do we have to talk about this?”
“It’s the sort of thing I’ll need to know if we’re to pull off our act. A woman would normally tell her new partner why she separated from her ex, right?”
True. “He wanted to start afresh and reinvent himself. That meant leaving behind anything or anyone that was part of the old him.”
“I see. Did you give him an earful?”
“No. I wished him well and then hung up.”
Dane’s brows snapped together. “He broke off the engagement by phone?”
I gave a curt nod. “I’m sure you can now understand why I really wasn’t delighted to see him at o-Verve.”
“Does he have a shot at winning you back?”
“Hell, no.”
Dane’s gaze pinned mine. “You need to be sure, Vienna. I can’t have you backing out on me in a few months, declaring you can’t go through with our plans because you’ve realized you still love him.”
“That would never happen for two reasons. One, I don’t love him. Two, I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch like that.”
“You’re in this until the end? I have your word on that?”
“Yes. And you know I won’t break it.”
Just then, the car began to slow. I looked out of the window and saw the restaurant in the near distance.
When the vehicle stopped, Dane said, “The moment we step out of the car, it’s—”
“Lights, camera, action?” I supplied.
“Yes. And we’ll stay in character right up until the end of the night. I trust Sam, but not even he can know this isn’t real. He doesn’t have your poker face. If anyone questioned him about us, they’d see right through his lies.”
“Understood.”
My door was pulled open. I smiled at Sam as I slid out of the car. He escorted me to the other side, where Dane waited. As I turned to face the restaurant, I didn’t miss Dane’s swift intake of breath behind me. My back was mostly bare, due to the tasteful V dip in the dress.
That didn’t stop him from splaying his hand on my lower back, resting his palm just above my butt. It was bold and proprietary and made my stomach all fluttery.
Casual and confident, he steered me into the restaurant. The pressure from his hand was light but very much firm and dominant as he, essentially, took control.
Inside, my brows lifted as I glanced around. This was no casual restaurant. There were no comfy booths, no wall-mounted TVs, no empty tables piled with dirty dishes, no waitresses in mini-skirts.
I also couldn’t see a single kid anywhere. There were lots of classily dressed ladies and well-groomed men. The wait staff here were as smartly dressed as the patrons.
Voices murmured. Silverware clinked. Classical music played softly in the background. With its expensive décor, hanging chandeliers, and crystal dishware, the place was both charming and elegant. The dim lighting and flickering candles also gave it a cozy, intimate atmosphere and softened its snobby edges.
It wasn’t the scents of various foods that dominated the air. It was perfume, cologne, fresh flowers, and burning candles.
My high heels click-clacked on the marble floor as we were led to a table near the large window. A prime spot for sure.
As Dane pulled out my chair for me, he lightly stroked my earlobe and said, “I like the earrings.”
I almost startled at the subtly flirtatious touch. He was smooth, I’d give him that. Remembering to play my part, I made sure my smile was just a little on the flirtatious side as I replied, “Thank you.” I sat on the padded seat, which he then smoothly slid toward the table.
No sooner had he settled on the seat opposite me than he ordered a bottle of red wine, probably remembering it was my drink of preference. He filed everything away in that incredibly perceptive brain.
The waiter handed us menus and then disappeared. Dane slightly adjusted the positioning of the small candles, the floral centerpiece, and the salt and pepper shakers. He wasn’t fidgeting. It was more like he was claiming the space and making it his own.
I scanned the menu, unsurprised that the selections were all gourmet dishes. I’d probably go with the prime rib. Honestly, this wasn’t really my scene. I preferred Italian food. Mostly pizza.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair down before,” he said.
I lowered the menu. “It wouldn’t have been professional to