“You’re not paying a cent. This is on me.”
“But Dominic—”
“When was the last time you let someone take care of you?”
His question sends me through a loop. I stare at him as he calmly handles his chopsticks like a pro and helps himself to a piece of delicious fatty tuna. I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling his question over silently as I stab my chopsticks into a piece of California roll.
Whenwasthe last time I let someone take care of me? I’d have to say five years ago when I almost married Corey. He made all sorts of promises to love and care for me, and that’s exactly how I ended up burned. I’ve been on my own ever since, raising Felicia by myself. Granted Lana’s been a massive help, too, but she’s the exception.
I briefly considered getting back out there but dating as a single mother is hard. The few men I did go out with treated Felicia like baggage, a conditional term that came with being with me. Some guys were sympathetic, but others looked at my baby girl like some kind of burden. I was always quick to kick those to the curb. After a while, I gave up on dating entirely.
I shift in my seat, giving Dominic a genuine smile. “Is that what this is? You trying to take care of me?”
“Would you allow it?”
He’s always answering questions with more questions. “I don’t know,” I admit sheepishly. “You probably wouldn’t find me worth the hassle.”
“That’s for me to decide,” he says, sounding very much offended.
I can’t help but laugh as I grin into my teacup. Why is he always so serious? “Well?” I ask. “What’s your verdict?”
He tilts his head to the side and regards me. “I think you already know my answer.”
My heart skips a beat. Surely, he can’t be serious. We haven’t even spent that much time together, yet he speaks with so much conviction. Every time I think I’m starting to get used to his charms, he blows me away with some profound statement or grand gesture.
At a glance, he looks hard and cold and unyielding. But would a hard, cold, unyielding man go to the trouble of putting in a massive order to keep me from taking out a loan? Or take me out to lunch and insist on covering the tab? I’m starting to realize there’s more to him than meets the eye. Beneath his semi-permanent scowl, there’s a good man hidden not far beneath the surface.
I’m just about to ask if he wants to share a bowl of green tea ice cream when a woman approaches our table. She’s dressed in a beautiful, cream-colored business suit, her head haloed by a mass of gorgeous black curls.
“Excuse me, Mr. Costello?” she greets him with an easy smile. The woman sticks her hand out. “Miriam Singh. We met a few months ago at your cousin Catalina’s wedding reception?”
“Yes, of course,” he says as he shakes her hand. “A pleasure seeing you again.”
A weird twist of jealousy stabs my chest. Dominic’s being polite, but I kind of hate the way he shakes her hand.
Miriam turns to me next and smiles. “And who might your friend be?”
I smile stiffly. “I’m Arin Wilson.”
“Arin is a fashion designer,” Dominic informs her.
Miriam’s eyes widen in delight. “Really? Well, talk about kismet!” She slides into the booth beside me without invitation, smiling enthusiastically as she reaches into her suit jacket’s pocket and pulls out a business card. “I happen to work for a fashion agency. I’ve represented big and small designers alike. How long have you been in the business? I feel like I would have heard of you.”
My heart races a mile a minute.Oh my God. A fashion agency? It could be a huge step forward for me if I can land a fashion agency to help me with the legal and marketing aspects of building my brand.
“I’m just getting started,” I admit, my voice a bit shaky. “I guess you could say Dominic is one of my very first clients.”
“You don’t say? How would you describe your style?”
“Classy and modern,” I tell her. “But sexy, too. I’m planning on a very inclusive range of sizes, all made with sustainability in mind.”
“Lovethat for you. Tell me, how would you describe your target audience?”
I can feel myself on the verge of rambling, but I don’t care. I’m incredibly passionate about fashion, and it’s rare to find someone just as interested who I can bounce ideas off of.
“I really want my clothes to be accessible to all. My pieces are on a sliding scale, from affordable everyday workwear to high-end evening gowns.”
“Do you happen to have any pictures on you?”