“I still think Branson might surprise you…” Willow trails off when she sees the stern look on my face. “Okay, fine.” She holds up her hands. “What are you wearing tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, where is he taking you?”
I sigh and check the address he sent, reading it off to her. She searches it on her phone and grins. “Good boy,” she mutters.
“What?” I ask.
“Well, he paid attention to your profile, for one. ‘Hates stuffy dinners.’ That was in your profile, remember? This definitely isn’t stuffy. Cozy as shit, though…” she holds up her phone, the screen showing a dimly-lit dining room with industrial chandeliers, dark flowers, and cozy little nooks for each curved booth. It’s not the place you go to be seen, but to hide away.
“Oh… shit.” My mind races as I try to come up with an outfit that would work. I’m a baker. My entire wardrobe comprises jeans and chef coats. “I have nothing. I’m canceling.”
“Girl!” Willow exclaims, jolting up straight in her chair. “That black dress you ordered online. The titty popping one with mesh bits that show off your thigh tattoo. That poor dress has been wasting away in your closet as long as I’ve known you.”
I grimace at her. “For a first date? I’m going to walk up in there looking like Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. At the beginning, not when they go to the opera.”
Willow cackles. “No, you won’t. It’s perfect for this place. And there’s not a man alive who could keep his hands off you in that dress.”
“I’m not trying to get his hands on me, Willow. It’s a first date.”
“Why do you lie to me like that?” She grins. “More importantly, why are you still here? Go home! Shower! Shaveeverything.”
“You’re seriously the worst influence in the world, you know that?”
Willow shrugs a shoulder, pleased with herself. “I do my best.”
* * *
I’ve never been to this part of Portland, but cobblestone streets are officially my new favorite thing. My heels click in the most satisfying way as I cross the street toward the restaurant. I teeter once when my stiletto catches in a particularly aggressive crack but recover without breaking anything. In the distance, boats are crawling through the harbor, their lights shimmering on the water.
I run my hands over my hips, smoothing my dress and cursing my nerves. Nothing is quite as sexy as sweaty palms, right? The restaurant is in a remodeled church. An inviting glow spills out from behind sleek glass doors and high, arched windows. I don’t know who names a restaurant ‘Sin’, but it’s kind of genius given the reclaimed building’s history.
As I step inside, the hostess greets me with a smile and a cat eye so strong it would have made Amy Winehouse stand up and applaud.
“Good evening, do you have a reservation?”
“Um… I don’t, but I’m meeting someone. I don’t know if he’s here yet?” I say, shrugging off my coat.
“I can check.” She taps the screen with a long onyx nail. “Your party’s name?”
“Um, Harkness?” I don’t know if he put it under his first name, and I’m just now realizing that I never asked for his last. A wave of panic hits me hard. What in the fresh hell am I doing? I don’t even know this man, and I’m meeting him out of town?
At least Willow knows where I am. If I turn up dead in the harbor, I have no doubt she’d avenge me—
“Oh, of course!” The hostess derails my morbid train of thought. “Your date is waiting for you.” She takes my coat, hanging it up in a little nook off to the side and steps out from behind the hostess stand. Instead of leading me to the dining room, she steers me toward an elevator and pushes a button. I eye her warily as she steps in. Taking a deep breath, I follow.
The doors slide shut noiselessly. The walls are lined with leather panels dyed a deep shade of chestnut. Music filters out of a speaker above us as the hostess hits a button. Rather than climbing, the elevator drops slowly.
“You’re not kidnapping me and locking me in the basement, are you?” I ask the hostess, only half joking.
“No,” she laughs. “Your date requested the private dining room downstairs. I promise you can leave anytime you want.” She pauses. “But listen, if you don’t want him, let me know. I’ll gladly run interference for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” I chuckle as the elevator dings and the doors open.
“Great dress,” the hostess whispers as I step out. She gives me a wave, and the doors shut, leaving me alone. Well, almost alone. As my eyes adjust, my gaze catches on the man who just stood up next to a table set for two. My jaw drops and something pinches in my chest.
“Hello, Alex.”