Suddenly he strode out into the rain and I gasped as cold droplets hit my back and neck. They were cold and made even colder by me being so hot. I felt like they'd steam off me like water dripped on a hot frying pan.
With no effort at all, as though I weighed next to nothing, he lifted me off his shoulder and lowered me to the ground. I was close to his body, as close as lovers, and I felt the heat from under his suit jacket and the strength of him.
He held the door open and smiled at me, the droplets of rain sparkling on his face and darkening his suit.
"Hop in before this suit is completely destroyed," he said, his eyes twinkling.
I swallowed and slid into the car. He closed the door behind me and walked around the front of the car. Between his trip from my door to his I made myself promise that I wouldn't kiss him, flirt with him, fuck him or think anything about sex and him. Then he slid into the driver's seat and unbuttoned his suit jacket and all those promises evaporated. The rain had soaked through his shirt and plastered it against his body. My mouth gaped open as I saw an actual-for-real six pack. I turned back and saw my reflection in the visor mirror. My top button was still undone and my sheer white shirt hadn't fared well in the rain. I was all cleavage and curves and at the sudden thought of what his body must be like under that shirt I saw my pupils dilate in the mirror.
"Let's get something to eat," he said and pulled away from the curb.
I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak and closed my eyes.
Gotta calm down. Gotta calm down. Gotta calm down.
*
We drove for about ten minutes before I opened my eyes again. Mr. Stone had turned the heater on and the gentle warmth was doing an excellent job of drying me off.
He glanced across at me and I saw his eyes stray down my body before he looked away. I brought my hand up to finally do up my blouse button but then stopped. Let him look. I wanted him to.
"Are you always so disobedient?" he asked, navigating us through the traffic and pouring rain.
Yes I wanted to say. I'm disobedient. And obedient. I will do what you say. I will disobey you and you will punish me.
Instead I asked where we were going and saw his lips twitch with a smirk even as he narrowed his eyes. Fuck yes I was disobedient.
"Laton," he answered as we came to a stop at a red light.
Laton? As in the-most-exclusive-restaurant-in-the-world-and-possibly-the-universe? Celebrities dined there - if they could get in. I looked down at my clothes and suddenly felt too underdressed to even walk past the front door.
Maybe I could ask him to take me home or somewhere cheaper. I glanced across at him as we took off again and immediately rejected the idea. He would take me home if I asked but ... I didn't want to go home. I wanted to be with him, around him.
Before I could make more small talk and blunder some more, we pulled up at the front entrance to Laton. Mr. Stone was out of the car in an instant and opening my door for me before I could even straighten my skirt to step out. He held out his hand and I allowed myself to be pulled up and out on to a red carpet, Mr. Stone taking the time to look me over again. I felt myself blush and let go of his hand. He gave the keys to the blue-jacketed valet and then held out his arm to me.
My mantra of don't freak out don't freak out stuttered to a stop as I realized what he was doing. He was about to walk me down the red carpet of Laton. I put my bag over my shoulder and my other arm through Mr. Stone's and tried to pretend I was here after the premiere of my new movie.
We went inside where the maitre de smiled and shook Mr. Stone's hand like they were old friends. My mind was already spinning at what was happening when Mr. Stone made a small joke with the maitre de and I felt like my body was about to float away. Where was I? Did I fall down the rabbit hole? Who was this man who had replaced my boss?
We followed the maitre de into the restaurant and through to our table. I may have been floating in wonder but small details pushed through. Candles. Polished wood. Artwork. Couples together under low lighting. I saw a man I thought I recognized and then realized he was an actual movie star. He smiled his seven-million-dollar smile at us and Mr. Stone gave a small nod in return. His companion was a gorgeous brunette with a dress slit down to forever and dark purple eye-shadow. She gazed at me with a look as hungry as the one Mr. Stone had given me earlier.
Before we sat down I buttoned my blouse and tried to fix my skirt again. It seemed intent on riding up and I felt like all my clothes had shrunk in the rain or my body was trying to burst out just for Mr. Stone's benefit.
Mr. Stone clasped my hand and stepped close to me.
"You're beautiful but if you don't stop adjusting your clothes or trying to fix your hair then I'll take you over my knee right here and smack that ass until it's red."
My breath stopped as I looked into his eyes. He was dead serious but I felt a spark of rebellion inside me light up.
"They'll throw you out," I answered.
He leaned forward until his lips were nearly touching my ear.
"I own the place," he said and let go of me.
He pulled out my chair and I sat down, a little miffed that my challenge had gone nowhere. He sat down and passed me a menu. His face had gone back to what I was starting to think of as Mr. Stone Standard: a cool gaze and no expression. An unreadable mirror.
I opened the menu and bit my lip at the prices. Did I want a steak that cost half my month's rent? How about a dessert and bottle of wine that could keep me in Oreos for the next year?
"It's all on me," Mr. Stone said and held out his hand to me. I was about to put my hand in his when he said "Do you mind if I order for us?"
I quickly gave him the menu and put my hand on the table but he smirked at me and I knew he'd seen.
"We'll start with a nice clear white wine," he said and glanced down at my blouse. Then he winked at me and my insides melted.
*
Once I had a glass of wine behind me and was sipping the second, I started to relax. Then the food arrived and I suddenly found myself chatting with Mr. Stone as if this was just any other man on any other date. We had salty edamame beans, using our fingers to split the pods open. Plates appeared and disappeared as more dishes arrived. One was two small pieces of tofu in some dark sauce that was about the most delicious thing I'd ever had.
As we ate, he asked me about my family and my life before coming to the city. I told him about my two sisters and brother and before I knew it I was showing him photos of us on my phone.
"You're a beautiful family," he said and took a bite of his meal. "Are they still back in Bedford?"
I felt my smile falter but he apparently didn't see it as he was looking down at his plate. I found myself suddenly racking my brains. Did I tell him I was from Bedford?