The private dining room glowed with soft golden light, spilling from a chandelier shaped like a cluster of tiny blossoms. The table before Athena was set with crystal glasses and fine china, each plate rimd with delicate gold. A vase of fresh orchids stood in the center, their fragrance faint but sweet, blending with the aroma of the dishes laid before them.
Gentle music floated in the background—a low, steady rhythm that wrapped the room in quiet romance.
Antonio had gone all out for this date. Maybe he was trying to wipe off the mory of the last one they’d had, the one where her mind had been in the clouds rather than on her boyfriend.
She mused on that with a soft smile, pleased that he had at least taken her complaints into account and had kept the paparazzi away. It would have put a stain on the evening; it was enough receiving congratulatory ssages and looks from the citizens on her feed, her website—everywhere.
Even her colleagues, past and present, had thrown in their congratulations. Shawn had asked for his daughter to be one of the little flower girls at her wedding—she had sent him a sticker of an angry lady shooting at a disturbing male in return. And her old boss was still holding a little grudge; the dia had made it seem like Antonio was her fiancé.
Seven minutes ago, the president himself had joined the parade. I hear congratulations are in order, Athena. Rember to send an invite. It would an much to and the state. As if she were at a level higher than the president.
As much as her companies worldwide had recorded an increase in sales—seeing as she had utilized the attention strategically—she wished for obscurity, just a little.
Now, in this mont, she took it all in. The beauty of this place she had heard of but had never taken the ti to visit—mostly because she hadn’t had a partner. It wasn’t a place for business talks.
Her gaze wandered over the elegance before returning to Antonio, her man looking dashing in a navy-blue tuxedo. He sat across from her, relaxed but with that familiar glint in his eyes. She felt warm inside just looking at him.
Her cheeks blossod red when he winked at her suggestively. Of course, he was still riding the high of the few hours they had spent together before preparing for the date.
He hadn’t expected her sudden visit. She hadn’t planned it either, but with Ewan bearing down on her earlier, she had taken the easy way out—needing to needle his emotions as he did to hers.
It had been worth it, she surmised, her thoughts drifting to the mories they had shared in his beautiful, holy apartnt—to the heat of their make-out session on his couch. The smile on her lips widened, unknown to her.
It had started innocently enough—Antonio teasing her about losing in their little board ga challenge. He’d leaned in to "congratulate" himself, his lips brushing hers in a playful, stolen way that made her breath hitch.
Then it had deepened—his hand warm against her cheek, his mouth claiming hers in slow, lingering kisses that left her lting into him. She rembered the soft scrape of his stubble against her skin, the weight of his arm pulling her closer until the world beyond his living room simply didn’t exist.
When she recovered herself, courtesy of his phone ringing, her bra had slipped off their designated place.
Then there had been the spa in the bathtub. She’d been bathing luxuriously in scented oils, preparing for the dinner date, when he had walked in naked—save for the bottle of wine in his hand and two glass cups.
The laughter that fell from her lips ungracefully when he slipped while trying to get into the tub was priceless.
The gentle hum of water, the scent of eucalyptus, his hand finding hers under the scented water... They’d lounged side by side, sipping wine, talking in low voices about nothing and everything. Laughing about bonds and bad business moves.
She rembered the way he looked at her there—like he was morizing her—before he claid her body for the third ti.
She felt seen, chosen; sothing she had yearned for, begged for, during the three years of her marriage with Ewan. She believed her earlier unsettling about Antonio was only because of past trauma; she wasn’t used to being treated like this, like she was a gem.
She chuckled softly, rembering the lingering kisses they’d shared by the door before walking to the car, contemplating whether they should damn the reservation at the best romantic restaurant in the city—they were late after all—and just spend the night on the couch.
Was this what his other girlfriends had felt when they had been with him? She wondered. No wonder they had fought over each other for his attention instead of fighting the man responsible for their miseries.
Athena was so lost in her own world that she didn’t notice Antonio leaning closer until the cool silver of a spoon brushed her lips. It held a bite of saffron-infused risotto studded with tender lobster—fragrant, creamy, and rich.
She smiled as she accepted it, savoring the taste before swallowing.
"You’ve got a little..." he murmured, his hand reaching forward. Instead of a napkin, he gently brushed the corner of her mouth with his finger.
Athena laughed, and before she could say a word, he replaced his touch with the soft press of his lips—a quick, chaste kiss, but enough to send warmth rushing through her.
Oh, this was love, she argued against her unsettled feelings.
"Do you want ?" delivered in a deep, husky voice made Athena smile shyly and glance around.
They were alone in this small VIP space, yet it wasn’t silence that filled the air—it was intimacy. Each couple present in their tent-like space was wrapped in their own world, speaking in low tones, leaning close over their tables.
It felt private, safe. Athena loved it. She liked Antonio for being thoughtful.
"Wait till we get ho, tiger," she muttered, kissing his lips. "And I’m still hungry. You haven’t redied that yet."
To that end, Antonio brought up another spoonful of food to her mouth.
"Hey..." she laughed. "I can feed myself. Just let eat and stop looking at like that."
Antonio, the happiest man in the world, smiled and obeyed—he stopped feeding her, though he kept staring.
"Antonio!" A weak protest.
"I can’t help it, Athena. Do you know how long I have waited for this?"
Athena offered a naïve smile in response before she dug into her food properly.
"You love the food?"
A nod, another spoonful finding ho in her mouth. "Best I’ve eaten in a while at a restaurant."
Her phone buzzed softly on the table. She glanced down to see a ssage from Nathaniel: Mom, are you okay?
Athena swallowed, emotions giving way to clarity. She was out at a ti well past her bedti.
"Who is that?" Antonio managed successfully to keep the anxiety from his voice. Even though Athena had assured him of her faithfulness, he didn’t trust Ewan; didn’t put it past the latter to use the children to get her attention.
"Nate. He is worried about ."
Antonio sighed in relief. "He doesn’t know you are with ?"
Athena opened her inbox. "They do. It’s just that I’ve not stayed out late on a date before. I’ll just send him a quick text."
"Are you going ho tonight?" Antonio’s heart hung on a thin thread, especially when Athena stopped typing and looked at him.
A beat. Two. Three. "No. I’ll stay with you."
Firstly, because she could. Secondly, because she wasn’t ready for the looks her grandfather—and God forbid if Ewan was around—would give her. She wanted to have fun today, destress, and think of nothing but the present, her boyfriend–possibly her fiancé.
She knew she had made the right choice when Antonio smiled at her in worship, taking her free hand and kissing it lovingly.
"I love you so much, Athena."
Yet she couldn’t say the words back, not as genuinely as he spoke his, at least. She rather smiled tenderly, wishing him to understand.
Antonio did; he was a patient man. "I will wait. I’m sure we will get there soon."
An appreciative nod, and then she sent the ssage to Nathaniel: I am okay, darling. I’m still at dinner, but I won’t be coming ho tonight. Talk to you soon. Love you loads.
"Do you think the children would want as their father?"
A thoughtful question, Athena realized while she watched the elegant servers tending to their table minutes later.
"Of course, babe. They’ve known you since forever," she assured him, stifling the mory that arose—of Antonio thinking comic books were a no for her children, that her children’s intelligence was another money-making venture.
It was a mistake, she told herself. She shouldn’t cancel him because of that. Ewan had done worse after all.
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