When Parker had told me to meet him at Saffron, I’d thought he was joking. Saffron was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, with a waiting list as long as my arm and prices that meant I wouldneverbe able to eat there.
Not unless I had a year’s income to blow on expensive wine and minute portions.
The place had raving reviews, of course. Which only made it harder to get in there.
But Parker had insisted—Saffron was his local hangout, he had said.
When I climbed out of the cab, Parker was already waiting for me at the restaurant doors. I’d insisted on meeting him there rather than having him pick me up.
It seemed safer.
He smiled when he saw me.
It hadn’t been safer at all. Parker's perfectly tailored suit was doing wonders for his broad shoulders, and he looked like he’d stepped from the pages ofGQmagazine.
“You look incredible,” he said, his eyes sliding slowly down my body. I fought the heat that crept up my neck and onto my cheeks.
“You’re not allowed to flirt with me,” I said. I couldn’t help my smile.
Parker grinned at me. “If you didn’t want me to flirt with you, you should have worn a garbage bag.”
I laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re right. You probably would have pulled that off too. I just can’t win.”
I blushed harder, shaking my head. Parker cocked a sexy smile at me and stepped so close his cologne enveloped me. He kissed me on my cheek, lingering for just a moment. My stomach clenched, and I thought about how he’d pushed into me, making my toes curl.
When he stepped away, I was out of breath.
“Shall we?” he asked. He held an arm for me with a twinkle in his eyes. I looped my hand through his arm, and he led me toward the seating hostess.
She looked at Parker with stars in her eyes.
“Hello, Nadine.” His grin was as charming as ever.
“Mr. Conrad,” she breathed. She glanced at me, her smile fading a little, brows knitting together in disapproval before she looked at Parker again as if he were a god.
“Follow me,” she said and picked up two menus, turning toward the dining room.
As we walked through the tables, eyes trailed us. Parker was famous—everyone knew who he was. For a moment, dread filled me. Would they want to know who I was? Would they say something about it?
What if Ryan challenged me?
But I would tell him it was just a business meeting. It’s what we had agreed upon, right?
Parker pulled my chair out for me when I sat down. Ever the gentleman. Nadine, the hostess, handed me a menu with an empty smile before she fluttered her eyes at Parker and handed him his menu.
I glanced at the prices and realized there weren’t any.
This was one of those fancy restaurants where the lady didn’t need to know prices. Which meant it probably cost an arm and a leg just to have a soup starter.
And this was the place where Parker liked to hang out the most.
His life was very different from mine. What was it like to have so much money he never had to worry about how much he spent, and where he spent it, like, ever?
“Do you have a wine preference?” Parker asked.
I shook my head. Wine was wine. I usually got the cheap stuff with the screw top. I didn’t even opt for a fancy cork.