I stood in front of my full-length mirror, adjusting the strap of my red dress for the third ti. The fabric hugged my curves perfectly, and the neckline dipped low enough to catch attention without being inappropriate.
My hair fell in loose waves over my shoulders, and I’d gone for smoky eyes that made feel bold and confident.
This was our first real date, even if it was staged for the caras. My stomach fluttered with nerves as I slipped on my black heels and grabbed my clutch.
I made my way downstairs, the click of my heels echoing in the quiet house. Axel was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking devastatingly handso in a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
His eyes widened when he saw , and he cleared his throat. "You look... stunning."
Heat rose to my cheeks, but I managed to stay composed and offered a smile. "You clean up nice yourself."
"Ready for our performance?" he asked, offering his arm.
"As ready as I’ll ever be."
We drove to Romano’s in Axel’s car, the city lights blurring past us in streaks of gold and white. The closer we got to the restaurant, the more my nerves kicked in.
"Rember," Axel said as we approached the restaurant, "we’re madly in love newlyweds who can’t keep our hands off each other."
"Right. Madly in love. Got it."
The paparazzi sward the entrance as soon as our car pulled up. Flashes exploded like fireworks as Axel stepped out and ca around to open my door. He took my hand, his warm and steady grip pulling closer as we made our way through the crowd of photographers.
"Smile," he murmured, his breath tickling my ear as caras clicked frantically around us.
"Mrs. O’Brien! Over here!"
"How’s married life treating you?"
"Any plans for children?"
Axel’s arm tightened around my waist protectively as we made our way to the entrance. "No questions tonight, gentlen. We’re just here to enjoy dinner."
Inside Romano’s, the atmosphere was elegant and intimate.
Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the dining room, soft jazz played in the background, and the tables were filled with well-dressed patrons who definitely belonged to the city’s elite.
"Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien," the maître d’ greeted us with a practised smile. "You made a reservation. Your table is right this way."
We were seated at a pri window table where we’d be clearly visible to anyone passing by outside. Perfect for our purposes.
"Wine?" Axel asked, scanning the nu.
"Please. I think I’ll need it."
He ordered a bottle of their finest red, and we started with appetisers. The conversation began with safe business topics.
"How’s the SEC situation looking?" I asked, taking a bite of bruschetta.
"Better since you caught that error. They’re satisfied with our explanation."
"Good. The last thing we need is a federal investigation on top of everything else."
But as the wine loosened us up, our conversation gradually shifted to more personal territory.
"What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never have?" Axel asked, his eyes locked on mine as he leaned forward slightly.
I considered the question, twirling my wine glass. "Travel alone. No itinerary, no plans, just pick a destination and wander. See where the day takes ."
"That sounds incredible. Where would you go first?"
"Maybe Italy. Or Greece. Sowhere with history and beautiful architecture." I smiled. "What about you?"
"Sailing the diterranean," he said without hesitation. "Just , a boat, and endless blue water. No etings, no phone calls, no obligations."
"You know how to sail?"
"My father taught when I was young. Before..." He trailed off, but I understood.
"That sounds peaceful."
"It was. The only ti my mind ever felt completely quiet."
Our main courses arrived: steak for him and lobster ravioli for . We continued talking, sharing stories about our childhoods, dreams, and fears.
"Do you ever wonder what we’d be like if we’d t under different circumstances?" I asked, surprising myself with the question.
Axel paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "You an if your father hadn’t killed my parents?"
"I an, if we’d t normally. At a coffee shop or a friend’s party or sothing mundane like that."
He set down his fork and really looked at . "I think... I think I would have been intimidated by you."
"Intimidated? By ?"
"You’re brilliant, beautiful, and you have this way of seeing right through people’s facades. I probably would have been too nervous to ask you out."
I laughed, feeling warmth spread through my chest. "That’s ridiculous. You’re one of the most confident people I know."
"Only because I had to be. Confidence was survival for ."
For dessert, we shared a chocolate mousse that was sinfully rich. I found myself laughing at his stories about disastrous business etings, and he seed genuinely interested in my opinions about everything from art to politics.
"You have chocolate on your lip," he said, reaching across to brush his thumb gently across the corner of my mouth.
The simple touch sent electricity through , and I caught his hand, holding it there for a mont longer than necessary.
"Better?" I asked softly.
"Much."
We enjoyed another glass of wine, lingering behind like both of us didn’t want the night to end. When we finally left the restaurant, the paparazzi were still waiting outside, though in smaller numbers.
"One more show," Axel whispered as we stepped outside.
He pulled close, his hand on the small of my back as we walked to the car. To anyone watching, we looked like a couple completely lost in each other.
The drive ho was quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The evening had felt less like an act and more like... well, like a real date.
"Thank you," I said as we pulled into our driveway.
"For what?"
"For making tonight easy. Fun, even."
"It was fun," he agreed, sounding slightly surprised.
We walked to the front door together, the silence between us comfortable but charged with sothing I couldn’t quite na.
Outside my bedroom door, we both stopped, neither of us moving to say goodnight.
"I know it was all an act, but I hope you enjoyed yourself?" Axel asked in a low voice, his gaze searching mine as if he was trying to uncover sothing buried deep within .
"It wasn’t bad," I teased, unable to suppress a smile.
"Just ’not bad’? Wow... my ego is wounded."
"Maybe slightly better than ’not bad,’" I conceded.
"Would you want to give it another try? Another dinner, I an," he asked, brushing a stray hair from my face, tucking it at the back of my ear.
I tilted my head, studying his face. "I’m not sure. You might need to convince ."
I noticed a change in his expression as he moved closer, closing the distance between us. He gently placed his hand on my cheek.
"How’s this for convincing?" he murmured, and then he kissed .
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