“Very cool.” Or not, Emily thought to herself.
“And, supposedly, Blake Industries is the largest account Dillon handles.”
Emily shrugged. “So? Big deal.”
“So…you could thank Gavin for the money your boyfriend has.”
Emily thought about the countless nights Dillon spent at the office, landing different clients in order to earn a living. Even though Gavin played some part in Dillon’s newly acquired wealth, she knew her boyfriend worked above and beyond Blake Industries to make that money.
She simply bowed her appreciations. “Well, thank you for that very educational background of the three men’s histories together. You’re too kind.”
The two women laughed.
Emily went to walk out of the bathroom, but Olivia spoke up one last time. “Want to know something really funny, chick?”
Emily stopped in the threshold and waited for her to go on.
“It was Gavin who was supposed to come out and visit that one weekend with my brother when we were in school—not Dillon. Crazy to think that right now you probably would’ve been dating him instead.”
A faint smile tugged at Emily’s mouth as she stared into her friend’s eyes. The ringing of Emily’s phone broke through the few seconds of silence. She moved to the kitchen to retrieve the call. It was Dillon, announcing he was waiting for her downstairs.
Grabbing her purse, Emily strode to the door as Olivia blew her a kiss goodbye.
“You look amazing tonight,” Dillon breathed into Emily’s hair as they made their way into a quaint little restaurant nestled on the lapping shores of Liberty State Park. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he leaned closer and nipped at her ear. “And I have to admit that pretty red dress will come off by the end of the evening.”
Giggling at his obvious gesture, Emily pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “And I have no disputes with it coming off.”
She took a quick moment to catalog Dillon’s features, sighing with warmth at his boyish good looks. His dirty-blonde hair was naturally mussed as if she had just run her fingers through it, and his light brown eyes reminded her of a perfect blend of caramel and chocolate.
He had made reservations for the special evening, making sure they had a table overlooking the water. It offered some of the best views of the Statue of Liberty in the distance. The waiter led them onto a lavish patio lined with trees and subtle landscaping. The view of the harbor swept Emily’s breath from her as she took in the sights New York had to offer under the stars. Although it was the first few days in July, the air held a crisp, cooling breeze on this particular night.
After placing their order and enjoying two glasses of red wine, Emily looked to Dillon. His gaze was transfixed on hers as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She felt a blush dance across her cheeks, and she smiled.
“What?” she asked.
Sliding his arm across the linen-draped table, he reached for her hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb along her knuckles. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are,” he remarked, inclining his body ever so subtly over the table.
“Oh, you’re really trying your hardest to get some tonight.”
Chuckling, he held her hand tighter. “Touché. I already know that I’m getting some—willing or unwilling on your part.”
Emily shook her head and laughed. “You’re in a very frisky mood right now.”
He shrugged and casually leaned back in his seat. “Yes, I am. But how could I not be?” he said, gesturing to her slightly exposed cleavage with his head. “Although, I must say, I wish you would wear something that covered you up a little more.”
Emily adjusted the straps of her dress, pulling it up higher on her chest. “Is it that bad?”
“Well, I like to keep what’s mine to myself.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of wine. “Okay, let’s talk about something else before I take you right here on this table. So how was your day?”
Not meeting his eyes, Emily traced the rim of her glass with two fingers. “It was okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel self-conscious now, Dillon,” she replied, glancing around the patio.
“Emily, I didn’t mean it like that.” He reached across the table and lifted her chin with one finger. Her eyes came to rest on his. “I just don’t like when other men stare. You look stunning, but like I said, you’re mine.”
“Okay, I’ll pay more attention to what I wear from now on.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. “But, to be honest, I actually like when other women stare at you.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yes, I do. I know you’re with me, and that’s all that matters.”
“Well, you’re a woman, that’s why. Men have other things in mind when they stare like that.”
Interrupting the conversation, the waiter arrived with another bottle of wine and two plates of Beef Wellington. The rest of the evening’s talk focused on Dillon taking Emily to do some sightseeing around the city. It was something that she had looked forward to since she had yet to do it—at least not with him.
Picking up the empty plates, the waiter looked to Emily and handed her a dessert menu. His thick, French accent slid from his tongue. “The chef recommends the crème brûlée medley, consisting of chocolate, vanilla, and banana.”
“That sounds good to me,” Emily replied, handing the menu back to him.