Pretending to be Rich Page 8
I finished my napkins and moved into the kitchen to begin the rest of the preparations. There was a feeling I couldn’t shake clinging to me. I didn’t feel sad, but I felt down. I was feeling the burden of being alone.
I kept trying to tell myself it was just a mood, and it would get better. It always did. I was stuck on the idea of Cade. I had been listening to Lola too much. She put the idea in my head. The idea of finding a good guy that could take care of me. That was the easy way. I seemed to have this fascination for making everything about ten times more difficult than it had to be. I couldn’t explain why.
The evening passed with nothing eventful happening. Then again, I probably wouldn’t have noticed if there had been anything exciting. I’d been in kind of a fog. A funk really. I was going to go home, drink a couple of beers, and dull my senses enough to crawl into bed and just sleep.
I said my goodbyes to Lola, who was going to stick around and “talk” to one of the guys she’d met. I walked out the back entrance, making my way around the building without paying much attention to my surroundings. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my earbuds, pulling up a perfectly melancholy song list on my phone and putting in one earbud.
“Hi,” I heard a male voice say.
I shrieked, jumped back, and looked up to see Cade leaning against a black Audi four-door. His hands were in the pockets of his cargo shorts. He looked so normal. So casual. Nothing like the wealthy men I had seen pick up Lola in their fancy suits that seemed to be a permanent look for them.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, yanking the earbud from my ear.
“I wanted to talk to you in person. I don’t like texting.”
“Talk to me about what?” I asked.
He smiled. “I didn’t help you the other night because I expected something in return. I clean for free or to help out.”
I nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to take you to dinner. I do. I would like the chance to get to know you—and just talk if that makes you feel more comfortable. I expect nothing in return. It’s just a dinner. Hell, we can make it lunch or breakfast if that makes it easier for you.”
I sighed. “It isn’t easier. It’s just—” I stopped and shook my head. “Why are you so interested?”
He grinned. “Have you ever heard of love at first sight?”
I scoffed. “I’ve heard of it, and I think it’s bullshit. Do not tell me you are in love with me.”
“I’m not. Not yet anyway.” He winked. “But I just found you to be intriguing. I want to get to know you. See if there is anything there. I felt a spark. I would like to think you did too.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t. I’m not that kind of person. I don’t believe in love at first sight or magnetic attraction.”
He nodded. “Okay, that’s fine. But are you opposed to just having another friend?”
I had to smile at that one. If he only knew I could count my friends on one hand… “You’re persistent.”
“I am,” he said.
I locked my gaze with his. “I have to ask why? You must meet women every day of your life. I need to know why you think I’m so worthy of your time?”
He bit his bottom lip, appearing to be mulling it over. “Every answer I have, you’re not going to like. I’m going to go with the stone-cold truth. I like you. It is really as simple as that. I think you’re gorgeous, and you have a certain quality about you that I’m drawn to.”
I believed him. He seemed sincere. I didn’t get the idea he was lying. “Fine,” I said.
“Fine?” he blurted out. “Really? You’ll go to dinner with me?”
I nodded. “Yes, but,” I held up one finger, “if you’re a dick or start throwing around your money or acting like an arrogant asshole or are pretentious in any way, I will walk out on you. I will not tolerate that kind of an attitude. I hate it. It pisses me off, and I will not sit across from you at a meal if you’re acting like that.”
He was bobbing his head up and down. “Okay, got it. Don’t be a dick. Believe it or not, I’m really not a dick. I’m a nice guy. People tell me that all the time.”
I scoffed. “I’m sure they do. People always pander to the rich.”
He opened up his mouth and snapped it shut again. “Not me.”
“Whatever. One dinner. That’s it.”
He patted his chest and looked around as if he were searching for something. “Wait, let me write this down,” he said with a small laugh.
I sighed, putting a hand on my hip. “Ha. Ha.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “I don’t want to mess this up. I want to make sure I do this right.”
“It’s not hard. Don’t be a dick.”
“I promise. I may be a lot of things, but I am not an idiot, and I am definitely not a dick. I say the wrong things and act like a fool sometimes, but I am not a rude man.”
I eyed him carefully. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t,” he said. “So, can I pick you up?”
“No.”
“No?” he asked with obvious disappointment.
“No. I’ll meet you at the restaurant. Where would you like to go?”
He looked thoughtful for a second. “What kind of food do you like? Greek? Italian? French?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care. I’m not picky.”
“Kouzeineri,” he offered.
I raised my eyebrows, a little surprised by his choice. It was a good place to eat, but it wasn’t exactly one of the finest restaurants in the city. “Okay, time?”
“Do you work tomorrow?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then how about seven?”
I nodded. “Seven, it is.”
“I don’t want to push, but are you walking home?” he asked.
I looked down at my feet, then him. “Well, I’m not riding a bike.”
He smirked. “Can I give you a ride?”
“No. Thank you, but I can walk. I like to walk.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, is it safe?”
I scowled at him. “Unlike the wealthy class, us regular people walk to work and to get food and wherever we need to go, unless we splurge for a cab. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything,” he said, holding up his hands.
I looked at his newish car. It wasn’t exactly an expensive car, but it was a nice car. One point for him. He was subtle, not flashy. That was a good sign. “It’s fine. If you don’t mind, I’ve had a long night and would like to get home—alone. Walking alone.”
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said with that silly grin of his.
“Goodbye, Cade,” I said, put my one earbud back in, and walked away.
I could feel him watching me as I walked. Something about knowing that made me want to swing my hips a little more than usual. I had to admit, there was something very flattering about a handsome man showing his obvious interest. It was exactly what I needed to lift my spirits for the day. Seeing him left me smiling. A real smile. Not the practiced smile I had to use while serving guests.
Maybe he wasn’t a douchebag after all. I grabbed my phone and switched to the playlist I often listened to when I was cleaning. I thought about what I would wear tomorrow.
I felt like such a girl. I wanted to dress to impress. I thought about calling Lola and asking her advice, then remembered she was back at the center, working on a boyfriend.
I made it to my apartment, putting away my purse and heading directly for my closet. I had thought I was going to go home and have a few drinks, but after seeing Cade, all I wanted to do was find the right outfit.
It couldn’t be an outfit that looked like I was desperate. I didn’t want to look like a prude. I wanted to find something that was casual and sexy and didn’t look cheap. I cringed when I pulled out the skirt I loved. It was a faded black, having been well-worn.
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My elation faded. I was dining with a man that wore clothes that cost more than I made in a year. It was exactly why I didn’t date wealthy men. I felt inadequate.
I didn’t want to look like an imposter with cheap knockoffs—like my mom. I had worked very hard to separate myself from her and didn’t want to fall into her cheap habits now.
Chapter 13
Cade
Maceo had called earlier and asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. It wasn’t like I had a busy social calendar, so I figured why the hell not. Getting a guy’s perspective on the Eliana situation could help. I walked into the coffee shop and found Maceo sipping coffee and reading a newspaper, looking like the wealthy magnate he was.
“Good afternoon,” I greeted him, taking a seat across from him.
He looked up from the paper and smiled. “Hey, glad you could make it.”
He folded the paper and put it on the corner of the table. I got the sense the guy was bored. He had too much money and had nothing to do with it and no one to spend it on. Another good reason not to be wealthy, as far as I was concerned. What was the point?
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Did you solve your girl problem?” he asked.
I chuckled. “Is there ever really a solution to any girl problem?”
“True.”
“I asked her to dinner,” I said. “Three times technically, but the third time was a charm, and she agreed to go.”
“Congratulations!”
I laughed. “We’ll see. She made it very clear I’m not to be a dick, as she put it.”
“Where are you taking her?” he asked.
“Kouzeineri,” I answered.
He grimaced. “Did you tell her the truth about your financial situation?”
“No, not yet. My plan is to make her see how delightfully charming I am and then spring that little tidbit of information on her after she learns she can’t live without me.” I grinned.
He winced. “That’s a nice choice.”
“But?” I asked, seeing it all over his face that he didn’t think it was a great choice of restaurants.
He cleared his throat. “But it isn’t really a nice place or a place for a man who is the richest of the rich,” he said with a smile as he quoted me. “That isn’t the place a wealthy man would take a woman on a first date, especially if the date is meant to woo her.”
“Woo her?” I asked. “I want to charm her.”
“Same thing.”
“So, what do you think? I should choose a different restaurant?” I was already thinking of the places my father would normally go to.
He shrugged. “She thinks you’re wealthy. While your choice is okay, you want to impress her. If you take her there, she might wonder why you’re taking her somewhere that’s affordable. You’re supposed to be this wealthy man, trying to charm a woman.”
I realized he was right. “Shit. There’s no way I’m going to get into one of the better places in the city on such short notice.”
He looked thoughtful for a second. “I’ll make a call. I know one of the chefs at Xalavro. I’ll make sure you have a table.”
I grimaced, hearing the name. “I don’t know.”
“It’s fine. I will take care of it. What time?”
“I told her seven.”
He nodded, reached for his phone, and tapped away on the screen. A few seconds later, he looked up and smiled. “Done.”
I shook my head. “Why are you doing this for me? You don’t know me.”
He chuckled, not offended by my blunt question. “Because I meet very few genuine people in my life. I can tell you are one of the few real people in the world, and I want to help you out. It isn’t often I can hang out and just be chill. I usually talk about business or money, two topics I’m completely bored with. I want to be normal. Rich, but normal,” he added with a smile.
I laughed. “I see.”
“Hey, and they almost always throw in dessert for free,” he offered.
“Good, I’m going to need it,” I said.
“This is going to be worth it. If you want to impress her and get on her good side, you need to treat her right. A good dinner is a great way to do that.”
“I hope so. She is a finicky one, which makes her all the more attractive.” I laughed. “I better let her know there is a change of plans.” I pulled my own phone out and quickly texted her the restaurant location.
“I hope it works out for you.”
I put the phone down after sending the text. “Thanks again. I don’t know how I can repay you, other than to offer you bowls full of gelato.”
He laughed. “I might take you up on that. You don’t need to repay me.”
We talked a bit more, getting to know one another, and I confirmed my earlier suspicions—the guy was lonely as hell. I could certainly relate. He seemed like a decent person, and I could use someone to hang out with, especially if the thing with Eliana didn’t pan out.
After getting home, I rummaged through my closet to find something nice enough to wear to the restaurant. I had hoped to keep it casual but realized that would have likely revealed my secret before I was ready to do so. I needed to dress the part.
I found the suit I wore to weddings and the occasional funeral. I pulled it out, tried it on, and realized it was too big.
“Shit,” I muttered, suddenly feeling like a woman, digging through my closet to find the perfect outfit.
I finally pulled something together, hoping it was enough to impress but not too much. She didn’t want me to be pretentious. That was one of her many requirements for the evening. I could definitely do that.
I grabbed my keys and headed to the restaurant, hoping like hell she didn’t stand me up. This was my one shot. If she didn’t show, I wouldn’t ask her to dinner again. A guy could only take so much rejection.
I parked on the street, a little surprised by the restaurant’s location. I had driven past it several times but never paid much attention to it. It was very subdued, nothing flashy that would announce it was one of the best restaurants in the city. One of the best and one of the most expensive.
I paced out front, counting the minutes. I had arrived early, just in case she had.
“Hi,” I heard her voice, and I breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t stand me up.
I turned around to see her walking down the sidewalk toward me. She was a vision in blue. She was wearing a blue dress with a hemline that fell just above her knees. A thick white belt was around her waist, accentuating the soft flare of her hips. It was an old-fashioned dress style, which I had seen becoming more popular with the lovely Duchess Kate’s rise to popularity. I liked the look, and I especially liked it on her.
“You look lovely,” I told her.
“Thank you,” she said, looking very uncomfortable.
“We can go in if you’re ready.”
She nodded. “I am. May as well get this over with.”
I burst into laughter. “That truly boosts my confidence.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Is there any other way to take it?” I asked.
“No—yes—I’m sorry. I’m nervous. I’ve never been here before, and I worry I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.”
“You’re stunning,” I assured her. “The only reason people are going to be looking at you is because you are absolutely beautiful.”
She smiled, and a little blush of red stained her cheeks. “Thank you.”
We walked in, and I gave my name to the young man at the door. We were escorted to the outdoor eating area, where the shades overhead were pulled back to allow for fresh air. The stone patio was elegant and perfect for a first date. I was definitely going to have to tell Maceo thanks again.
I had to remind myself to be casual. I was pretending to be the guy that dined at this restaurant and others like it on a regular basis.
“Wine?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I’ll let y
ou choose.”
I inwardly grimaced, hoping I chose the right one. I was a little out of my league. When the waiter came back, I went with what I knew and asked for two glasses of their best white. I settled in, trying to calm my nerves. She was so pretty. I felt completely unworthy to be in her presence.
“Thanks for coming,” I said with a grin. “I was having some doubts.”
“Honestly, I was having some doubts myself, but I agreed to show up, and I am not going to go back on my word,” she said.
“Good. I like that. How long have you been working at the event center?” I figured asking about work might get the conversation flowing.
“A couple years. My friend Lola got me the job.”
“Do you like it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t hate it. It can be interesting at times. It’s steady work, and when we get tips, it is a nice bonus. You? What is it you do?”
“I own my own business,” I replied, sticking to the very gray truth.
“Is it something you inherited?”
“Nope, it was all me,” I said. “My dad isn’t exactly thrilled with the idea.”
She nodded. “Was that the man at the party the other night?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“There is a resemblance, and I sensed just a hint of bitterness,” she said with a giggle. “It’s that bitter discomfort that I share with my own mother.”
“Ah, so you understand,” I said with a small laugh before sipping the wine that had been delivered.
“I do, all too well. Does he live in the city?”
I shook my head. “No, Italy. He was in town for a few days and insisted I go to that benefit. I don’t usually attend stuff like that. It really isn’t my crowd. What about your mom? Is she in town?”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Today, maybe. I don’t know. She kind of floats in and out of my life. She likes to travel—a lot. I don’t see her all that often, and when I do, it’s just long enough to remind me why I like that she travels.”
I chuckled, nodding my head. “That’s exactly how I feel about my family. I don’t visit them in Italy as much as they would like, but I think it is about self-preservation and keeping things on a somewhat friendly basis between us. Too much time together, and things will be said that can’t be taken back.”