Ivy White
Robernero holds the door open for me, and I step into the restaurant. My gaze flits from one table to the next before I spin around, ready to bolt for the exit.
But Robernero is blocking the door, leaving me with only one option: to cross my arms. So, I do just that.
“You could’ve warned me. Everyone here is dressed to the nines, and I’m in a freaking tracksuit!” I hiss at Robernero, my voice barely above a whisper. I’m mortified.
Robernero smirks, looking down at me. He’s so tall, and I feel like a tiny ant next to him. “As I said before, Miss Verb, judgment. It leads you to make poor choices.
“You put on that tracksuit, thinking it would drive me away. Not only were you wrong in thinking I’d leave because of what you’re wearing, but you’ve also put yourself in an awkward situation.
“Now, let’s go order some food.”
“I’d rather not.” I want to sprint out that door and die of embarrassment. I’ve never felt more humiliated in my life. I look like a rubber duck!
“Good evening, Mr. Robernero. Your table is ready, if you’d follow me.”
I turn slowly to see a waitress standing there. Robernero places his hand on my lower back, guiding me towards the table. I twist around, ready to make a run for it, but he throws his arm out and pulls me against his side.
“Don’t fight this,” he says in a calm voice, his breath tickling the top of my head.
I drop my gaze to the floor and hurry to the table. Robernero stops in front of a chair and pulls it out just as I’m about to sit across from him.
“Miss Verb. If I may—”
I look at him with wide eyes. He glances at the chair, and I nod, walking around the table. When I sit, he pushes my chair in for me. I drop my head again. This was a terrible idea.
He takes the seat across from me while I stare at the array of cutlery. Shit! How do you use all these? There are three glasses on my right and two bottles of alcohol. I don’t know what they’re called because the labels aren’t in English.
My cheeks are burning as I touch my face, trying to hide my embarrassment.
“I hope you don’t mind. I asked your sister what your favorite meal is. She told me you like mushroom tagliatelle.”
“No, that’s fine,” I tell him, staring at the black marble wall to my left as a woman in a black dress walks past us, her heels clicking on the granite floor.
“Your meals.” A waitress comes over and places our dishes in front of us. I turn and give her a small smile.
“Mr. Robernero, mushroom tagliatelle for the lady and sirloin steak for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Lent.” Robernero nods at her, his smile friendly.
“Mr. Robernero, you’re welcome. Enjoy your meal.”
I pick up the only fork I recognize, and Robernero takes a knife and fork. I start eating, then notice that he’s eating properly. His posture is perfect, his arms aren’t on the table.
I feel like a fool. I drop my arms to my sides, my mouth slightly open. I can’t even hold my fork right because of my dyspraxia. Awkward.
I had the same problem in high school, not being able to hold my pen correctly. It’s affected me my whole life. I use my hair to cover my face, hoping no one can see me.
Robernero cuts a piece of his red steak, and my stomach churns. I hate it when food looks like it could still move. I look away.
“So, Miss Verb, where were we? Ah, yes. I’ll pick you up from work tomorrow.” He shoves a piece of meat into his mouth while I cover mine with my hand, feeling nauseous.
“I won’t be there,” I tell him, trying not to breathe. He’s watching me, chewing his food with his mouth closed.
I run my hand through my hair. I’ve never felt so exposed in front of someone before, even though I’m covered from neck to toe. I feel vulnerable, like he knows me better than I know myself.
“Are you taking the day off, or are you not going to be there because you’re trying to avoid me?” He tilts his head, and I shrug.
“Avoid.” I look down at the floor, avoiding his gaze. If I do this, he won’t be able to read me…or will he? I hope not.
“I see. I’d appreciate it if you could look at me.”
“I can’t.” I cover my mouth with my hand, trying not to throw up. That’s my excuse. Oh God, help me!
I need to do something, anything, to avoid looking into his blue eyes. They draw me in and put me in uncomfortable situations where he seems to read my mind and attack my soul. Thanks a lot, Wren!
“What’s wrong?”
“The meat.” I point at his plate. I’m not lying about the meat. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I hope he doesn’t notice.
“Do you like your meat well-done? This is juicy and cooked just right. Timing is everything.”
I lift my head. I like arguing, and my big mouth helps me deal with situations like this.
“That meat could practically run off your plate. And this meal, it’s not a normal portion for me. It’s too small, if you ask me.”
“What size is enough for you, Miss Verb?” He puts his cutlery down and tilts his head again, studying my face for answers.
“Three times this amount.” I cross my arms and lean back in my chair.
“I get where you’re coming from. But if the portions were any bigger, it’d be too much. You want to savor your food, enjoy each bite, not gulp it down. Food’s meant to be chewed… You don’t want to feel stuffed all day.”
“Alright. If that’s your take, then by all means. You stick to your way of life, and I’ll stick to mine.” I flash him a sweet, sarcastic smile.
“Do you feel intimidated by me, Miss Verb?” He clasps his hands together, resting his elbows on the table. So masculine.
I’m on fire. Can someone please throw me a lifeline? This man knows how to make a girl squirm and second-guess every word she says. Normally, I’m straight to the point.
But right now, I’m holding my tongue to avoid embarrassing myself.
“No. I just think you don’t know how to have fun.” I smirk at him, arching my right eyebrow.
“Oh, I know how to have fun, Miss Verb. More than you realize. Look at it this way, I can afford any toy I want. No limits, which means more fun.” He grins and winks at me.
I wasn’t expecting that. For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss for words. I stay silent.
We both continue eating our meals. Well, I spend my time trying to navigate my food in a setting I’m not accustomed to.
Robernero pours us both a glass of what appears to be red wine and takes a sip from his glass, his eyes closed.
“Now that’s a winner.” He chuckles as I give him a quick nod, pushing my plate away.
“I wanted to discuss your sister’s email. I’ll admit... it piqued my interest, and I can confirm that you are indeed challenging to work with. Why you take everything as an affront is beyond me.
“I’ll leave it at that and let you carry on as usual. It’s been an interesting evening. I wish you all the happiness and success that comes your way.”
“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.” I stand up and smile. He’s letting me go. That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Now, I need to get out of here! He extends his hand to me, and I take it.
“Until we meet again. Mr. Avent will escort you home. Thank you, Miss Verb.”
“Good night, Mr. Robernero, and thank you for the meal. I appreciate it.” We shake hands, and I let go.
“Not a problem at all.” Robernero steps back, and I turn to leave. I glance over my shoulder and catch him watching me intently.
That man is definitely something else.