walk out first, knowing each gallant gesture disarms her and gets me closer to yes. Though to be honest she doesn't seem to have a big guard or giant walls around her, which is pretty unusual these days. Part of me is charmed by it and another part of me wants to shake her and ask does she not know the thoughts that go through men's minds? Does she not know the wolves who would eat her alive? Part of me wants to punish her and another part wants to protect her—from men like me and Griffin and Soren.
She pops the trunk when we get out to her car. It's a bit of a walk since she parked on the other end of the lot and was walking store to store. She drives a modest but clean Ford Focus, obviously purchased with her own money.
I put her bags in, and she hands me mine. “Thanks for the rescue,” she says, flashing that brilliant smile again. It's so blinding that even the sun overhead can't compete with her.
She's definitely flirting with me which makes me wonder if she's trying to up her man harem to four or if she's already thinking of dropping someone.
“I like you,” I say. Maybe it's not the best line in the world, but it's genuinely true, and I'm banking on her sensing it. “Let me take you out to dinner.”
She laughs. “He buys me dresses, opens doors, carries my bags, and wants to feed me, too. Is dragon slaying on the agenda, because I want to be sure to get a good seat.”
I take her hand in mine. It's a risk, but she's letting me this close into her space and knows I want to date her. And doesn't fortune favor the brave? “Come to dinner with me. I can't let you starve.”
She laughs at this. We both know this girl would never starve in any situation. Men would stumble over their own feet to feed her if she were in true distress. And I would no doubt be one of them.
She sighs. “In all seriousness, my dance card is pretty full right now.”
Shit. Is she really going to keep that Jack douche on the roster? He was a bit of an asshole to her earlier in the week, and I was hoping to play that to my advantage. Even if she says no, this much flirting could buy me another chance if we bump into each other in a few weeks. I can wait for Jack to do something stupid and leverage his foolishness in my favor.
“Squeeze me in,” I say. “I'm sure you've got time for one dinner. You have to eat. I'm flexible.”
“Dammit. Okay. Yes. I will go to dinner with you... wait... maybe we should exchange names. I think we're doing this a little out of order.”
I can't believe I didn't remember to introduce myself. I really am behaving like a teenager. “I'm Dayne.”
“Livia.”
“Okay, Livia. You tell me when you can fit me in among all your suitors and I'll take care of the rest.”
Livia
Mr. Black Card
Seven months ago. Last November.
I meet Dayne at the restaurant. He seems almost relieved by this, and I'm not sure what to make of that. Does he have secrets he doesn't want me to know? Is he borrowing someone else's black card? I sigh. I'll figure him out if he sticks around long enough.
It's a first date, and I don't let men pick me up on the first date for my own safety. It's true that he probably isn't a criminal. The black card joke wasn't entirely a joke. It's a very exclusive card, and while I may not know all the qualifications to have one—except for the poorly kept secret that you have to charge at least a hundred thousand dollars a year just to be considered—I'm pretty sure that a brand like that wouldn't give their card out to a man with any kind of criminal record. Him just having the card is practically a background check all on its own.
Then again, there are knockoffs out there, and it's not as though I could scrutinize the card without seeming tacky.
The restaurant he's chosen is a tiny hole in the wall Italian place. It's not fancy or expensive but it's very romantic, and the food is amazing. I'm wondering if this is a gold digger test. I don't mind it. I mean I am sort of ruthlessly maintaining a roster of men to date until