I walked to the MUNI bus around the corner and dumped quarters into the machine. I glanced at my phone and felt my heartbeat in my throat. Six-thirty p.m. No turning back now. I clutched the rim of my seat for dear life as the MUNI shuddered and banged up the steep streets.
I wanted to throw up as the bus stopped on the street I was supposed to get off. What the hell was I thinking? Why did I agree to do this? You agreed out of desperation.
Wrapping my coat tight around myself, I carefully descended the steps. The sea air whipped down the streets violently from the Marina and tossed my hair around my head. I raced across the street towards A16, a small restaurant tucked into the wall that was teeming with people behind its softly lit windows. The tiny, square sign glowed in the misty air. I stopped for a moment to calm myself. I checked my phone one last time to find a text from Natalie:
Good luck
Closing my eyes, I said a silent thank you to her for the confidence boost needed to grasp the dark door’s brass handle. The smell of baking crust and tomatoes blasted into my face, making my mouth water instantly. It was funny how I often didn’t realize how starving I was until the smell of something appetizing floated across my nose.
The interior of the restaurant was dark and intimate. Like most places in San Francisco, the space was small. The bar and kitchen stretched on the right side of the restaurant, and a row of tables draped with linen on the left. The back of the restaurant had a long table enclosed in a glass room, slightly separated from the rest of the restaurant.
I squeezed past the people waiting for a table on the sides and approached the hostess. Well, now what? What do I tell her? I don’t even know his name.
“Ma’am, would you like us to take your coat?”
An employee swooped in from nowhere and held out his hand expectantly.
“Oh!” I was clutching my coat as if I depended on it for survival. “Yes, please.”
I slipped the fake wool coat from my shoulders, feeling naked without it. My black purse dangled from my shoulder.
The hostess gave me a dubious smile, as if she could see through the carefully constructed wardrobe and deduced that I had nowhere near the amount of money to afford eating at this place. “Welcome to A16! Do you have a reservation?”
“Hi—uh—no, well, yes.” My high-pitched laugh made me cringe. “It’s for seven o’clock. I’m supposed to meet someone. My name’s Jessica.”
Her eyes widened with renewed interest. “Ah, yes. Mr. Pardini has been waiting. Please follow me.”
Yeah, that’s right, I thought as I returned a haughty smile to her bewildered expression. I have a date with a billionaire. The cacophony of surrounding conversation quickly swallowed my short, nervous laugh. My teeth clenched together so hard that my jaw ached. How awkward would I be with the billionaire? Stop referring to him as ‘the billionaire’!
Something stirred inside my head when the host mentioned his name. Pardini. Where did I hear that name before?
The hostess walked straight to the bar and I scanned the people sitting on the stools, trying to figure out which one was L. She walked to a man dressed in a dark blue suit sitting idly on the bar, his long fingers playing with the stem of a wineglass. I couldn’t see his face at all, only the back of his head which was thick with dark brown hair, imperfectly groomed as though he had just had a long day at work. Clearly afraid to touch him, she leaned in.
“Mr. Pardini!”
His head turned to the left and I caught a glimpse of a stunning profile. She said something I couldn’t catch and his dimples creased into a smile. Now it was his turn to pick me out of the crowd. I wanted to run away, but his cool blue eyes froze me in place. His calculating gaze swept up and down, and I was so entranced that I didn’t even notice that he slipped off the stool and walked towards me.
He was so beautiful that it almost made me want to cry, because I knew that someone like that would never, ever be into me. It was impossible.
“Hi, I’m Luke.”
A high-pitched, teenage voice squealed inside my head. Oh my God. This guy is really incredibly hot. Stunned into disbelief, I completely forgot my fear. I pulled my lips into what I thought was a sweet smile and slipped my hand into his. His hand was reassuring and instant heat traveled through his skin and into mine, up my arm and glowing somewhere in my chest. He was the stuff of fantasies, and yet, his face wasn’t so perfect that it was unnerving like so many actors in Hollywood with perfectly straightened teeth as white as Chiclets.
I was supposed to say something, but his mesmerizing eyes promised there was no other person in the world he would rather see than me. I sniggered and felt a violent blush creeping up my neck. “Uh, it’s really nice to meet you.” Really, really nice.
He made a slight “hmm” and his smile became a grin, as if he knew the effect he had over me and was thoroughly enjoying it.
“If you follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”
I squeezed his hand suddenly. I forgot she was there. Let go of his hand! And stop staring at him!
I dropped my gaze and let go of him. My hand trembled as it returned to my side and I felt like one of those Twihards shrieking at Robert Pattinson. What was wrong with me? I walked in front of Luke and followed the hostess as she brought us to the back, to the room separated by a wall of glass. It was meant for larger parties, but Luke probably paid to reserve it. Of course he did. He had piles of money.
Luke pulled out my chair with one hand like a perfect gentleman and I sat down, inhaling something that must have been cedar cologne. The scent disappeared as he swept around the table, but it left me intoxicated and I blinked at him as though I were slightly drunk. He was so handsome that I couldn’t bear looking at him longer than a few seconds. Would he be able to detect how hard I was crushing on him? He looked more like a male model than a businessman. His dark hair fell into his eyes with a casual elegance that few men could achieve. He smiled at me and my cheeks burned violently.
“Would you like anything to drink, ma’am?”
God, yes.
She slid a drink menu under my hands and I snapped my attention towards it. I didn’t recognize any of these wines. The only wines I knew were of the Charles Shaw variety that sold for five bucks a pop at Trader Joe’s.
“Just get me a dry red. Something you think is good.”
She nodded. “Would you like another glass, Mr. Pardini?”
“Yes, please.”
His voice stroked me. It was very deep and calming. When the hostess left, there was no reason to avoid looking at the remarkable specimen sitting in front of me. When I met his gaze, he smiled again and warmth flooded my chest. Pardini. A small explosion took place in the pit of my stomach.