B ouley was just as nice inside as it was out. I smoothed down the sweater-dress I’d borrowed from Emma .

I say borrow although technically it was more like I swiped it out of her closet after she left work. I’d already planned to take care of her laundry tonight to make up for not getting the rent money to her. I’d just add the dress to it .

Considering the difference in our body types, the dress actually fit pretty well. I figured my curves stretched it enough to compensate for the height difference. The color had been the deciding factor. It was a rich, deep red, the kind that looked good on true blonds like Emma or on those with a darker complexion like me .

“Are you meeting someone?” The hostess smiled at me as I came inside .

“Dominic Snow.” I gave her the name he’d said on the phone .

“Right this way .”

I followed her, trying not to fidget with the dress or my hair. All those thoughts fled when I saw who was sitting at the table .

My mouth went dry .

My hands went clammy .

Shit.

The hot stranger from the other day, the one who’d stopped me from falling and had tried to save my job, he was Dominic Snow. He was the guy who had my necklace. And judging by the lack of surprise on his face, he’d known who I was .

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” I said as he stood and pulled out my chair .

“I’m not.” He flashed me that same charming smile. “I found the necklace on the floor near the plates when I went back to my table to get my jacket. I wasn’t positive it belonged to you, but I suspected as much .”

Is he flirting with me ? I didn’t know. I’d never been as good at reading these signals as some girls .

“I know I asked you to meet me here so I could give you the necklace, but my business meeting just canceled on me. Would you care to join me? My treat, of course.” He settled back down in his seat and reached for his water glass. “I do hate to eat alone .”

Get the necklace. Get out. Common sense told me that was the smart thing to do .

And my stomach chose that moment to growl .

Hunger won out over common sense. I hadn’t had a decent meal in two days—my groceries were all but gone and it wasn’t like I had money coming in tomorrow, right ?

“I’d like that, thank you .”

He smiled at me and gestured a server over. “Would you like some wine ?”

“No, thanks.” I smiled as I answered .

He nodded and ordered a glass for himself .

I asked for water. We chatted about the food while we went over the menu. We had barely closed the menus before the server arrived to take our orders .

Once that was done, he leaned back in his chair and those extraordinary blue eyes focused on me .

“So, Miss Aleena Davison...it is Miss, right?” His smile flashed, hot and bright, and his eyes glinted at me .

“Yes.” I held up my left hand and wiggled my fingers. Then, surprising myself with my boldness, I raised an eyebrow and gave his hand a pointed look .

“Yes,” he said as he held up his hand. “I’m a Miss too .”

I laughed, and he immediately joined in, a low rumbling sound that made heat coil in my stomach .

As that tug of heat spread, I reached for my water. I’d hoped the reaction I’d felt the other day had been a fluke .

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He took a sip of his wine. “No accent .”

I shook my head. “I’m from Iowa. And you ?”

“Me?” There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, gone so fast I barely had a chance to recognize it .

“You don’t have an accent either,” I pointed out .

“True. But I’m New York, born and raised.” He lifted a brow, a faint smile curling his lips. “In the business world, especially when dealing internationally, it’s...better to have a more general American accent .”

As we talked, I began to relax. It was nice, sitting in a good restaurant, eating the kind of food I couldn’t afford on my own. He was attractive—whoa he was extremely attractive and that laugh. Every time it rolled through the room, I felt a tug deep inside me .

Not that he was flirting, exactly .

Occasionally, his eyes would linger on mine, but there was nothing less than courtesy in the way he acted and after the way my past few days had gone, it was something I desperately needed .

Since this was the first—and probably the last—time I’d had the chance to sit down in a high dollar restaurant with an urbane guy like Dominic, I planned to enjoy it .

Enjoy wasn’t the right word, though .

He wasn’t just sexy, and there was more to him than that amazing smile. He made me laugh. He had an insightful way of looking at things and a kind way of treating others. He gave the server who brought our food the same courtesy he’d shown me—and that meant something .

Since it was the same job I had, it mattered to me when a guy didn’t treat others in that line of work as invisible .

Before I knew it, our plates were being cleared and the server was asking about dessert. Regret was something I was familiar with, but I can’t ever recall feeling it quite as strongly as I did then .

“Thank you, no,” Dominic said after I’d declined .

As the server walked away, Dominic looked at me. He reached into his coat pocket. “I should probably give you this .”

The chain of my grandmother’s necklace glinted in the subtle lighting overhead. “Wouldn’t want to forget the reason you came .”

My heart leaped at the sight of it and then it practically stopped when our fingers brushed. As a gasp lodged in my throat, I looked up at him. He was watching me, his gaze intent on mine .

“Thank you,” I said, my throat almost painfully dry. As he continued to stare at me, something unfamiliar settled inside me. I curled the chain in my palm and tucked both hands in my lap. “Thank you so much. My grandmother gave it to me before she passed .”

“You were close?” he murmured. “It hurts to lose somebody you love. I’m sorry .”

“Yes.” I looked away. There really wasn’t anything else to say, was there ?

“We should go,” he said a moment later. “I hope I’m not making you late for work or anything. Wouldn’t want to give your boss another reason to bother you.” His mouth tightened .

“Ah…not likely.” I placed my napkin on the table, taking care not to look at him. “I don’t currently have a boss .”

It’s amazing how much tension can flood a silence. It startled me enough that I looked over at him. His jaw was tight, almost rigid with anger, but the moment our eyes met, the expression was gone .

“I see.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Are you job hunting then ?”

“Yes.” I gave him my best, everything’s fine smile. I had a lot of practice with it. I could bluster with the best of them. I’d been doing it most of my life .

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then he leaned forward. “What sort of jobs have you done?” he asked .

“Excuse me ?”

“Humor me.” He gave me that quick smile again, those grooves beside his mouth deepening. That smile could probably be classified as a deadly weapon .

Uncertain where he was going with this, I shrugged. “I’ve been serving since I was sixteen. It’s what I’m best at. But I took office administration in college and was one of the assistant managers at my dad’s restaurant from the time I was eighteen up until I decided to move here. I can do office work—Microsoft Word, Excel, that sort of thing. I helped out with payroll until I finally convinced Dad he’d be better off switching to a service .”

“So you’re organized .”

“Guilty.” I gave him a look of mock sincerity .

He didn’t smile. Instead, he went back to tapping one finger on the table. Just one—his index finger. After a moment, he stopped and then leaned back into his seat. “I know of a company that’s having open interviews tomorrow for several different jobs. I can’t guarantee anything, but I can’t see them not being able to find a place for you .”

What ? I had to struggle not to gape at him .

“Here.” He took out a business card and a pen, and scribbled something on the back. “Here’s the address. The interviews start at eight .”

I took the card and lifted it up, staring at it dumbly .

He rose and I shifted my gaze to look up at him .

He bent over it, gently pressing his lips against the back of my hand. “I hope to see you again .”

I stared as he walked away, my heart racing and my mind half-dulled by the shock .

I could still feel the place on my hand where his mouth had been .

I hoped he’d see me again too .