The Man Who Has No Love - Victoria Quinn Page 0,68

a four-hundred-square foot room. My old apartment was gone and I couldn’t move back, so I was stuck with it for a while. But nice apartments were hard to come by, and it would take months to find a new one…even with my connections.

Deacon stared at me like he needed more time to digest that. “I didn’t know they let you go until a month after it happened. If I’d known…I would have done something about it much sooner.”

I had been surprised he hadn’t come to my rescue since that was the kind of man he was. His silence had made me believe he was really livid with me, that he would never forgive me for what I’d done. And then when he got my job back, I was confused why it took so long. Now, I understood. “It’s not your fault, Deacon.”

“I just…wouldn’t have let you move to Brooklyn.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Brooklyn, Deacon.” There were nice apartments there. I just couldn’t afford one. I had been about to be homeless, so I just took what I could get. It wasn’t in a nice area, so I always wore my baggy coat and kept my hood up when I walked from the subway to my apartment.

“How do you get home every day?”

“I take the subway.”

He sighed in disappointment.

I didn’t want to spend our time talking about this. “Dinner sounds great. I’ll be in the lobby.”

It took him a while to agree to it, because his thoughts were elsewhere. “I’ll drive you home afterward.”

Oh no. “You don’t have to do that, Deacon. Really.”

“I’m not letting the woman I love take the fucking subway at ten at night.” Pissed off, he turned and walked away.

I just got him back, and I was already making him angry.

I had money in my bank account again, so I left to grab something to change into so I wouldn’t have to wear my work outfit to dinner. I wanted to look nice, wanted him to look at me the way he used to.

I found a black designer dress on clearance and got a nice jacket to go with it. My heels were already black, so I would be able to reuse those. Thankfully, I always retouched my makeup every few hours at work, so I had that stuff with me.

By the time he picked me up, I was ready to go, wearing a short black dress and black jacket with my heels, my makeup fresh. I wasn’t trying to get laid, but if that’s where it went…I wouldn’t say no.

I rose to my feet when he approached the desk. “Hey.”

He looked me up and down like he couldn’t stop himself. His eyes lingered on my legs, the tightness of my jacket as it hugged my waist, the visibility of my cleavage at the top of my dress. Speechless, he just stared at me and eventually cleared his throat. Then he nodded to the entryway, where his driver was waiting.

Yes.

I walked beside him, my heels tapping against the floor, my heart revving like an engine.

We got into the back seat of the car and left.

He looked out the window most of the time, but his eyes occasionally glanced to me, checking out my legs.

We pulled up to the restaurant and walked inside. He pulled out the chair for me, ordered a bottle of wine for the table, and then held his menu in front of him even though his eyes were on me.

I’d lost weight I couldn’t afford to lose for the last few months, so now I was bony. My ass probably wasn’t as nice anymore. How could it be when I wasn’t eating enough to keep those muscles strong. But I hadn’t had an appetite…until now.

Because I was happy again.

I was there, with Deacon, and now I was starving.

Deacon continued to watch me. “What are you getting?”

“Everything.”

He smiled slightly.

I wasn’t joking. I was so fucking hungry that I was going to get that steak. I set my menu down.

“What appetizer do you want?”

“Any of them.”

“Alright.”

When the waitress came over, Deacon ordered the appetizer and ordered his meal.

“I’ll take the New York strip,” I said with. “Medium well. With the potatoes. And can I add a soup?” I handed over the menu so she could walk away.

There was a basket of bread on the table, so I took a piece.

Deacon kept up his stare. “I’m glad you’re indulging.”

“Yeah. I’m starving because I—” I didn’t tell him I’d been too broke to eat much, too depressed