Christmas Captive - Isabella Starling Page 0,53

a relief—and added a grey scarf. Ross and I were meeting at the restaurant which was only a block away. For some reason, I hadn't felt comfortable enough to give him my address just yet. As I walked briskly through the November cold, I found myself wondering why I was so reluctant to share with Ross.

Ross was already waiting by the time I got to the restaurant. He kissed my cheek and we smiled at one another a little awkwardly.

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"I thought here would be perfect," he grinned.

"Mario's?" I glanced at the restaurant behind us. "Oh, okay. Sure."

I was a little disappointed but I did my best not to let it show. I didn't want him to know I was stuck-up or something. But the truth was, I'd spent most of my time at Mario's and I was dreading spending another minute in that place. But I swallowed back my reply and followed him into the room. Our coworkers smiled and led us to an empty table in a good spot.

"Best table in town," Ross joked, and I gave him a tense smile.

He ordered the food for us without asking for my preference. I didn't argue, though I already had a feeling this date wasn't going well. For the next hour while we made our way through our appetizers and main courses, Ross talked about himself. He didn't ask me anything about myself and an hour into the date, I'd already written it off as a disaster.

My eyes wandered from Ross animatedly chatting about his pitbull in front of me, and I found myself thinking of the one person I'd tried the hardest to banish from my thoughts—Grayson Kline.

I couldn't help it. I hadn't imagined our connection—I knew he felt it, too. But in the past eleven months, Grayson had made no attempt to contact me. He'd probably moved on already. He had the wealth and resources to find a new toy, someone more agreeable than I had been.

My fingers dug into the cloth napkin on my lap. Even after all these months, it hurt to imagine him with someone else. I couldn't think about it, it made me sick.

And yet I couldn't bring myself to stop. Margaret's image appeared in my mind again. The cruel woman had shaped my life into something I barely recognized anymore. I'd spent years resenting her and more years resenting myself for what I'd done. But I needed to move on. Margaret was gone, and I deserved a new, brighter future without her in it.

"Oh god," Ross groaned in front of me, palming his suit pocket. "I think I forgot my wallet."

Great, I thought to myself. What a perfect ending to a perfect freaking day.

"That's fine," I replied coolly. I paid for our meal, resenting the whole date since I hadn't even gotten to pick what I ate. I rarely treated myself like this, despite the growing money in my bank account. I didn't want to spend carelessly.

Ross offered to walk me home and I reluctantly accepted, just because it was dark and I was worried, and certainly not because I wanted to invite him back upstairs. But judging by the shit-eating grin on his face when I said yes, that was exactly what he was expecting to happen. I groaned inwardly. I would let him down easy, despite the ungentlemanly way he'd handled our date.

As we walked, his endless tirade about himself continued. I don't know if he thought the date was going well—I certainly didn't. All I could think about was curling up in my bed and forgetting this date had ever happened. Of course, now I also had to worry about all my coworkers knowing I went out with Ross, which would be a nightmare I'd have to deal with the next day.

Suppressing a groan, I motioned to an apartment building. "This is mine."

"Great," he smirked, winking at me. "Let's go upstairs."

"Oh," I wrinkled my nose. "I'd actually like to get an early night."

"Oh come on," he laughed, leaning against the brick wall. "You're not even going to invite me upstairs after tonight?"

My patience was wearing thin, but I didn't want to be rude, so I just shrugged. "Sorry."

"You can't be serious." He furrowed his brows at me, obviously displeased. "You're really going to treat me like that? Are you telling me I wasted my Friday night on you?"

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "But let's recap tonight. You took me to my own workplace for dinner. You