Chapter 8

Dayton

It wasn't hard for Mike to notice my mind was no longer on work. I couldn't even tease him about his shameless flirting with Jessa's friend because he zeroed in on my bright mood right away.

"Let me guess," Mike said. "You asked her out."

"Wrong." I grinned. "She asked me out."

Mike's eyes went wide. "Wow. I gotta say I didn't see that coming. That's great!"

My stomach took a dive. "Is it? Now I've got to figure out where to take Jessa Lauren."

"Yeah, you can't do the whole pizza movie thing with a girl like her. Face it, Dayton, you've been cheaping out on dates for years. Time to dig into that deep wallet of yours," Mike joked.

I smirked at my friend. "It's not funny. Jessa has no idea that I have money and I want to keep it that way."

"Why? What does it matter now? You know she's interested in you. It's not like she looked up your pedigree before she asked you out here on the sidewalk," Mike said.

"I've had too many women change the second they hear about my family fortune," I reminded my friend.

Mike shook his head. "From what I hear, Jessa Lauren would need three lifetimes to waste half her own money. If anyone could ignore your fortune, it would be her."

I glared at him. "You're saying nothing would change if I admitted I had billions?"

My friend scrubbed his neck and shrugged. "All right. I can see what you're saying but how are you going to hide it now? You can't be taking Jessa to some cheap hole-in-the-wall."

I groaned. "You're right. This is a mess."

"Wait, doesn't Horatio work somewhere around here?" Mike asked.

Horatio was a man I'd met in prison. After he served eight years of a ten year stint, Horatio had signed up for a cooking work exchange. It turned out he was a very talented chef and had skyrocketed to stardom despite his ex-con stigma.

"Mike, you're a genius. Horatio's got one of the hottest restaurants in town." I pulled out my cell phone and started the call.

"And you don't find it at all strange that you'd rather Jessa know you served time than you have family money?" Mike asked.

I shoved him away as I got Horatio on the phone and made a reservation for that night. Mike waited, arms crossed until I was done.

"Yes, I admit it's a little weird, but you've never seen a girl go crazy over the fact that you have money. One minute they're flirty and fine and the next they are looking for ways to trap you into marriage."

Mike cocked a dark eyebrow at me. "I highly doubt Jessa is trying to trap anyone into marriage."

"It's just better this way," I said.

"I already told Karina how much I make in a year. Women like honesty," Mike winked.

I had to laugh. Mike was a study in self-confidence. Still, he had never spent his formative years fighting off gold diggers, and young girls bent on early engagements. Prison had been awful and impossible, but it had at least eliminated those troubles from my life. I wasn't about to welcome them back in.

"I'm not going to lie to Jessa. I'm just not going to talk to her about money," I insisted. "I hear that's the gentleman thing to do."

Mike snorted. "If you're a gentlemen than I'm a goddamn duke."

Unfortunately, my plan was ruined almost the instant I picked Jessa up. She seemed happy enough riding in my white pick-up, but as soon as she heard the name of the restaurant, she went pale.

"I hope you know I always split the check on the first date," she said.

"No way," I retorted.

"Dayton, I don't want you to spend too much. Besides, I'm the one that asked you out." Jessa blushed prettily at the memory, but her chin was set at a stubborn angle.

I swept in front of the restaurant, tipped the valet, and opened Jessa's door myself. "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?" I asked her.

Jessa smiled and took my hand. Her black dress was tight in all the right places, and I helped her down out of my work truck. The valets jostled each other for a better view as I looped her arm through mine and led her up the steps to the restaurant.

The maitre'd spotted Jessa coming and dove to open the door. "Ms. Lauren, what a pleasant surprise! We didn't know you'd be joining us this evening."

"I made the reservation this afternoon."

The maitre'd looked me over in confusion. "I'm sorry, sir, but we have a three month waiting list for reservations."

"Then lucky for me I know the chef," I said sharply.

The maitre'd frowned, clearly not willing to believe a nobody like me, but he flagged down a waiter to take us to the bar while he scuttled off to the kitchen.

My back stiffened as soon as I saw a few familiar faces from my time before prison. The top tax bracket of San Francisco appeared to all be dining at Horatio's that night, and I worried I would be recognized before we even got to our table.

"Maybe this wasn't the best idea," I blurted out. "How do you feel about dim sum?"

Jessa assumed I was worried about the reservation and the high-prices. "It's been years since I had wonton soup," she said.

"Bad D, damn it's good to see you!" Horatio shoved his way through adoring foodies and caught me up in a huge bear hug.

"Horatio, this place is amazing. I hope I didn't screw things up by asking for a table tonight. You're watchdog over there told me there's a three-month waiting list."

He clapped me on the shoulder. "Not for you. Anybody, I know from the inside gets to sit at the chef's table. Come on, let me show you to my kitchen."

"The inside?" Jessa asked as Horatio swept us through the crowded dining room.

Horatio laughed. "I'll leave you to explain that to her while I get you two some small plates. I hope you're hungry!"

We were quickly settled at a large farmhouse table with a full view of the bustling kitchen. A few other lucky couples sat with us, and I was relieved I didn't recognize anyone.

Mike had been right; it was a lot easier to admit I'd served time than to tell Jessa about my family.

I waited until the sommelier had poured us our first glass of wine and then I explained. "I had a rebellious streak and ended up getting charged with four counts of auto theft."

"And that's how you met Horatio?" Jessa asked.

She was so genuinely interested in our here and now that my checkered past hadn't even made her bat an eyelash. A sudden tightness in my chest made it hard to breathe. I took a long sip of my wine and tamped down the desire to tell Jessa everything.

From there on the date was like a dream.

Horatio treated us to the best meal I had eaten in years. Despite my housekeeper's best attempts, I had refused her menus and lived off Ramen noodles and microwave burritos. Now, after having tasted Horatio's delicious food, I was certain I could never go back. Mrs. Upton would be very happy.

"All right, Bad D, tell it to me straight. Is this stuff good or what?" Horatio asked.

I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow as he sat down next to us. "This is amazing. Almost worth all those times we dreamt over the crap they served inside."

"Now, Ms. Lauren, I hear from my maitre'd that you are quite the catch." Horatio smiled at Jessa. "I hope you know our Mr. Miller here is too."

I gave Horatio another jab, and he saw my look. He, more than anyone, understood how a man might want to keep some of his past a secret.

Jessa thanked him for an amazing meal and happily posed for a photograph for Horatio's social media. I carefully leaned back at the last moment to avoid being splashed all over where someone might recognize me.

I was glad when Jessa put her phone away and walked arm in arm with me out the front doors of the restaurant. I waved away the eager valets and invited Jessa to take a walk. I wasn't ready to drive her home and face the rest of the night with her on my mind.

"It was hot in there," Jessa said, her cheeks bright. "I almost forgot it's near Thanksgiving."

I took that opportunity to wrap my arm around her shoulders as we walked. When she nestled in against me, my breath squeezed out of my lungs.

"Would you rather we go back and get my truck?" I asked.

Jessa smiled, her cheek brushing my shoulder. "I'm not sure I'm ready for our date to be over."

My heart stumbled, and I stopped dead on the sidewalk. "Would you want to come back to my place for a nightcap?"

I should have cringed at the cheesy, cliche line but I was too frozen in shock. What was I thinking? Not only was Jessa not the kind of girl a man pulled a move on during the first date, but I couldn't bring her back to my mansion without major explanations.

I was starting to see what Mike meant about honesty being the best policy.

Jessa smiled up at me, and her voice was breathless. "Yes. That sounds wonderful."

I forgot about my humongous white lie and leaned down to kiss her. I thought maybe she would pull back, shocked that I would be so bold, but Jessa gave a soft sigh and leaned into me. Our lips brushed together, smile to smile.

She tasted of the last sweet port the sommelier had poured, and I suddenly felt like a man dying of thirst. My arms wrapped around her tight waist and I picked her up to her tiptoes. Her smile parted on a gasp, and I drank deeply of her breathless kiss.

When her hands slipped behind my collar and tangled in my hair, I felt as if the sidewalk was floating away underneath us.

"Let's get my truck," I whispered against her mouth.

Jessa nodded and shocked me with a light nip on my lower lip. I hoped I could walk straight, much less drive us back to my place.

Jessa didn't say much in the truck, but her hand rested lightly on my upper thigh. I sped across the Golden Gate Bridge and into the headlands above Sausalito. Jessa seemed curious at the neighbor I entered, but she said nothing. I strained my passion-fogged brain for a good reasonable excuse.

"I forgot I'm housesitting for a friend. He doesn't like to leave his big mansion sitting empty while he's in Europe," I explained.

"Wow, it's a beautiful home," Jessa said as we entered the tall wrought-iron gates of my family's estate.

I realized too late that the housesitting excuse didn't make much sense when my housekeeper ripped open the door and eagerly awaited us on the front steps. Mrs. Upton ignored my non-subtle attempts to wave her back inside and instead smiled broadly at my guest.

"Welcome to--"

"Sorry, Mrs. Upton. I know I'm just housesitting, but I know my friend wouldn't mind if I brought a guest back with me. Plenty of room for one more, don't you think?" I called as soon as I opened my truck door.

My housekeeper's smile grew sharp but smoothed out once she saw Jessa. "Never mind housesitting or not," she said. "How about I start a fire in the upstairs lounge for you two."

I quickly calculated the chances of Jessa seeing a family portrait and plotted my route as we walked up the front steps. "Are you sure? This must seem strange. I can take you home if you want."

Jessa shook her head then she grinned. "This way I don't have to explain to Karina that I let you take me home on the first date."

I forgot about my silly charade and kissed her again. With Jessa in my arms, the rest of the world simply did not matter.