“I’ll have the same,” she shocks me when she orders. I didn’t expect her to want a lager. Once we’re alone, she glances at me, a small smile tilting her full lips. “What?”
“Lager? Didn’t peg you for a beer-drinking kind of girl,” I profess honestly. Each time I’ve spoken to her, she’s surprised me.
Violet shrugs. “I wanted to try it. I may hate it,” she explains. “But why not try something new? Since this” — she waves her hand between her and me — “is very new to me.”
“You’ve never been on a date?”
She grins playfully, and her eyes sparkle with mischief when she declares, “Not with an underwear model.”
“Like I said, that’s not only who I am.” I lean my arms on the table, wanting to get closer to her. The gentle scent of her perfume intoxicates me. Sweet, but not cloying like some women’s fragrances do to me. “I grew up with a single mom. We had a small flat in London, and I would catch the train to school every day.”
Her eyes widen, but she once again shocks me and doesn’t ask about my nonexistent father. “Any siblings?”
“Only child.”
“That explains the cockiness,” Violet teases right before our drinks arrive. I pick mine up and hold it out toward her. She clinks my glass before we both take a long sip of the bitter alcohol.
“Why does it explain the cockiness?”
“Well, I’m guessing you were quite a naughty boy,” she cajoles, her tone light and playful. But she’s completely right. I was a nightmare.
“I was quite the lad,” I inform her. “I mean, look at me.” I can’t help winking at her, which makes a blush bloom on her cheeks.
I’m astounded at just how beautiful this woman is. And I’ve spent most of my adult life around models that young girls aspire to be like. But Violet outshines every woman on each glossy page of the magazines I’ve worked with.
“But in all seriousness, I was my mom’s boy. I still am. She went through some dark times. But I never wanted for anything. We didn’t have much at that stage, but I had dinner every evening, and I studied hard to make sure I could one day give her everything she needed as she got older.”
I don’t know why I’m admitting all this to her, but Violet’s eyes gloss with emotion as she watches me. I’ve never been open to people, never allowed myself to admit my past. The only person who knows about all those dark times would be Simon.
“You were right, “Violet states.
I sit back, twisting the glass on the table, but I keep my gaze on her. “About?”
“You are more than you appear,” she affirms with a nod. “I guess I was bad at judging you before knowing you.”
“I think it’s something everyone does, even when they don’t mean to. We grow up in societies that show us that outer appearances mean more than personality,” I assert earnestly. Our dinner arrives, and it smells delicious. We order another two beers, and I can’t help but smile at Violet drinking lager with me. Most women I’ve been with prefer their fancy cocktails or wine, but as I watch her drink down the last of the beer, I realize I’ve also judged her unfairly. There is so much more to the beauty than meets the eye.
“You’re right.” Violet nods. “We do look at the appearance of someone, anyone, and we think we know what they’re like. It’s maddening to know there are people out there who may miss the opportunity of love, or a job, just because they don’t fit a certain precedent.”
“Tell me, what’s your precedent?” I ask before biting into the warm, melty goodness of the pizza. Flavors burst on my tongue, and I can’t help but groan.
“About?” she asks with a smile, a cheesy string sticking to her chin, and without thinking, I reach over and swipe it away, bringing it to my lips and tasting it from my thumb. Another deep-pink blush appears on her cheeks. There’s an innocence about her, a shyness I find alluring.
“Men.”
Violet considers this for a moment. “I just want someone who will accept me for who I am. I’m not going to change to make someone like me. I think too many women do that, and it’s sad. I’m shy, yes, but I’m also quirky, I enjoy a good movie and even a night out, but there are times I like to relax at home on my couch.”
Tipping my head to the side, I regard her with a vested interest. “So, you’re not looking for tall, dark, and handsome?” I challenge.
A laugh tumbles from her lips, and I can’t stop staring at her mouth. The thoughts racing through my mind have turned filthy, and I’m tempted to lean in and kiss her. But I have a feeling Violet is someone who needs to take things slow.