that those are fine features of yours, but I also told you the thing I like most about you. Your need for control.”
I take a sip of water and set my glass down more harshly than I mean to. “So I’m a game. If I give you control, you win. Is that it?”
“If you give me control, we both win.”
“And how long do you expect this arrangement to last?” I ask. “Until you get tired of me?”
That finally gets a chuckle from him. “As long as you want it to.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why is that?”
I huff softly. “Because you can have anyone. You’ll get tired of me long before I get tired of you.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ll see.”
I’ll see? What the heck does that mean?
The waiter brings our meals, and I study the coq au vin on my plate. I inhale the scent of burgundy, chicken, and mushroom. It smells heavenly, but I’m not at all hungry after this conversation.
Why would I grow tired of Braden?
The question interests me not only because I can’t imagine it but also because he intimated I might at some point in the future.
He’s bad news.
Addie’s words.
Tessa felt Addie is probably jealous, and she has a point, but I’m not convinced. Addie and I aren’t exactly friends. Being friends with your boss is never a great idea, and in Addie’s case, it isn’t possible anyway. We come from two different worlds.
As do Braden and I.
Braden takes a bite of his sole and swallows. “Nothing to say? That’s not like you.” He rises and lays his napkin across the back of his chair. He removes his phone from his pocket, crouches down next to me, and snaps a selfie of us. “What the hell? Let’s get them talking.”
“You’re Instagramming?”
“Kay will have the whole city talking about us within a day, so why not? You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?”
Seriously? “Of course not.”
“Then there’s no problem that I can see.” He fiddles with his phone for a few seconds.
My phone dings in my purse.
“Tagged you,” he says.
I pull out my phone. Same as last time. It’s blowing up with notifications.
“You should make your profile public,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because my followers will want to know you.”
“I’m a private person, Braden.”
“Not anymore.”
I lift my eyebrows. He’s right. Kay Brown accosted me at my workplace. She’ll no doubt be the first of many. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
He laughs. A solid laugh, so unlike him, and I revel in the joyful sound.
“You did, though. You wanted to date, Skye. This is what dating me is like.”
I keep my jaw from dropping open.
“In fact,” he continues, “I’m on my way to do some charity work. Why don’t you join me?”
“You do charity work?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“No.” Though it does. Someone as rich as Braden can simply write a check rather than do the work. I’m glad he’s willing to put in the time as well. Makes him even more attractive than he already is.
“I give a lot of money to charity,” he says, “but there’s no substitute for diving in and getting your hands dirty.”
I look down at my work clothes. “I’m not really dressed to get my hands dirty.”
“Just an expression, Skye. Though I do help with a community garden in my old neighborhood. But that’s not what I’m doing today.”
“Yeah? What are you doing today?”
“You mean ‘what are we doing today?’”
I smile. “Okay, what are we doing today?”
“Wait and see.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
We end up at a food pantry in South Boston, which is where Braden grew up. Definitely not what I expected.
“I come here once a week for an hour and hand out food,” he says. “Let’s go.”
We walk past the line of people waiting and into the building.
Several people rush to greet him.
“Nice to see you, Mr. Black,” a young man says.
“Braden!” An older woman grabs his hand. “I see you’ve brought a friend.”
“Cheryl, this is Skye.”
The woman holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Skye.”
“Cheryl’s an old friend,” Braden says. “We used to be neighbors.”
“When he was just a little guy,” Cheryl says. “We’re all so proud of his success.”
I’m in a kind of shock. Yes, Braden had humble beginnings, but why a food pantry? Why not just write a fat check and fund all the food pantries in Boston? Who is this man? Every time I think I’ve scratched his surface, he surprises me again.
“You all had a hand in it,” Braden says to