Friday had finally come. I was having lunch when I got a text from Mr. King. This was the first time he contacted me after the phone call the other night. Needless to say, I was kind of worried that the date was canceled.
Mr. King
I will pick you up at 7.00. Please text me your address.
I happily texted him my address, grinning from ear to ear. I couldn't believe I'd be having a one-on-one conversation with him. I was both excited and nervous. My only wish for tonight was that I didn't embarrass myself in front of him. In the business world, I could deal with any kind of pressure. Unfortunately, when it comes to personal matters, such as romance, I was a complete idiot.
——
Putting on my heels, I heard my phone vibrate. It was Mr. King, telling me that he was in the lobby. I quickly sent a reply, letting him know that I was on my way downstairs.
I fidgeted as I stood in the elevator. My heart was pounding on my chest. I was almost afraid that anyone could hear my pounding heart if they stood any closer to me. Exiting the elevator, my heels clicked with each step I took.
My eyes roamed the lobby, looking for the particular man. When my eyes finally found him, he was already walking towards me. He was wearing a rather casual suit. God, he was striking. My breath hitched as his ocean blue eyes once again captivated mine. And like the other night, he greeted me by kissing the back of my hand. I could feel the warmth radiating from his plump lips.
I frowned slightly as I remembered feeling the same spark the night before, trailing each time I made skin contact with him. I wasn't insane, was I?
"You look exquisite, Ms. Jourdain," he said, making me shiver.
"Thank you," I blushed, "You also look great, Mr. King."
"Shall we?" He offered me his arm, which I took after a slight hesitation.
We walked out to the parking lot in comfortable silence. I almost dropped my jaw when I saw his car. I knew almost nothing about cars, but I knew damn well that his car was super cool. Dear God, how much did this car cost? Super cool cars equals money, a lot of money. Even if I sold my kidney, I didn't think I could afford it.
Like a gentleman, he opened the door for me. I ducked my head so I could hide my face behind my platinum hair that I let loose for the night. When we were both comfortable in our seats, Mr. King started his super cool car.
"How's work?" He asked me as he drove. God, he looked so hot behind the wheel.
"It's doing fine. Fiore has started to design for her next collection," I smiled, "My job is to find a promising fashion channel that can promote the collection. I think I might make a deal with Luxxe."
"Making a deal with Luxxe is an excellent idea. I know the owner and he is a very honest and intelligent person. I don't believe I ever heard him in any scandals either."
On our way to the restaurant, we continued to make small talk. We arrived at L'Assiette, a French restaurant, in less than twenty minutes.
I almost squealed because I had missed eating French cuisine, especially the desserts.
French desserts were to die for. I was certain that by the end of the evening, I would be a very happy woman with a belly full of delicious meals.
I grinned at Mr. King as we walked into the restaurant, his hand behind my back. His touch made me feel both relaxed and nervous. Kind of confusing if you asked me. Nonetheless, I found myself enjoying it.
He again drew a chair for me to sit in, like a gentleman. His otherworldly face, fit body, captivating eyes, deep velvety voice, and excellent mannerisms made me wonder how someone could be so perfect. What was God thinking when he created this man?
"Good evening, Monsieur, Madame," the waiter said, bringing my attention back to the present, "Are you ready to order?"
I quickly went through the menu. Because I was French, I had no trouble making a choice from the menu. For appetizers, I ordered cheese canapés, while my date ordered gougères. For our main course, we both chose boeuf bourguignon.
I felt myself trembling every time he said something in French. I had the impression he could speak French based on how he pronounced the dish's name. If that was true, I'd have to do some reality check to see if I was good enough for this man. He was simply too perfect.
"I thought you might have missed home. So I brought you here," Mr. King explained as he leaned back in his chair.
"And you are correct, Mr. King," I said with a smile. "I was ecstatic when I saw the name of the restaurant."
"Please, call me Evander."
My eyes widened in surprise, but I smiled even wider and said, "Then, please call me Charlotte."
"Charlotte," he said, his tongue tasting my name.
My breath caught in my throat as he said my name. My heart was also not cooperating with me. In an attempt to calm myself, I took a deep breath before sipping my wine. Which was completely ineffective.
"You seem nervous, Charlotte," he said, a small smile on his face.
For the love of God. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of his smile. But I wasn't sure how much I could take before having a heart attack.
"Of course, I'm nervous," I said. Since lying would only make me more nervous, I decided that honesty was the best strategy.
"Why?"
"Well, I don't even know why, Mr. Ki — I mean Evander."
I smiled slightly at the way his body tensed for a moment when his name rolled out of my tongue. Glad to know that I wasn't the only one that was affected.
"Tell me about yourself, Charlotte."
"Well, I guess there's not much interesting about me," I chuckled nervously.
"Let me be the judge of that," he said, "but since you're nervous, let's start with me." Washington is where I was born and raised. I'm the only child in my family. So my childhood was kind of boring. I consider myself to be a responsible child. Fortunately, that trait has remained with me until now. I'm not sure I'd be able to run multiple businesses at the same time without it."
"I thought you only owned The King's Enterprise."
"That's what the public knows. My other businesses are more family oriented, and I prefer to keep them... underground?"
"Are you in the Mafia?" I asked quietly, my eyes wide.
There was a beat of silence before an amused smile formed on his handsome face. My heart skipper a beat at the sight in front of me. I blushed because he found my question amusing. But I couldn't take my gaze away from his smile at the moment.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he freaking teased me.
"Right… I don't think I'm supposed to know if you're in the Mafia, right? Omerta and all that," I nodded at myself.
"Charlotte, I'm not in the Mafia."
"Huh? I thought you said you liked to keep things underground."
"I did say that," he smiled with a glint on his eyes that I couldn't understand, "But not everything underground is related to the Mafia. Anyway, enough about me and your Mafia conspiracy theory. Now tell me a little bit about yourself."
"I was born and raised in Paris. I have a brother — Alexandre. He is in the Navy," I smiled as I remembered my brother, "When we were children, Alex used to take cover for me when I was in trouble. I was such a mischievous child. Even my parents went nuts with my behavior."
His lips twitched up into a smile, "What did you do?"
"Everything," I chuckled, "When I was five, I almost drew a whole house with markers, nail polish, and my mother's eyeliner. My parents had to spend seven hours getting them off. Then, when I was eleven, I found some cans of old paint in the storage room. And I used it to paint my father's car. Alex wasn't at home for the week, so he couldn't take the blame. My father was so mad at me that he didn't let me have my favorite dessert for a month."
That simple story earned me chuckled, making me shiver. When he noticed my body's reaction to his voice, I swear I saw his ocean blue eyes darken. Thankfully, we were saved by our appetizer coming.
"How long have you been in America?" He asked me as he finished his last bite of gougère.
"I studied at Stanford and decided that I love America," I said, smiling. "Sure, Paris is lovely." "However, something in America calls to me."
He gave a soft smile in response to my words. I couldn't help but notice the knowing look on his face. Did he know something? Should I tell him? There was a good chance he'd think I was insane, just like Alex did. I knew my brother loved me unconditionally. He simply didn't understand the hollowness I was feeling. However, my intuition told me that the man across from me would understand. So I gathered the courage to tell him.
"I… I felt like something was missing. The moment my feet touched America, I knew that I wouldn't leave for a while. I love my family, I really do. It's just…" I tried to explain.
"There's this void that other people can't fill," he finished my sentence, and I looked at him with wide eyes.
"How did you know that?" I whispered, my heart was pounding in my chest.
"Because I feel it too."
"What?" I stammered, "What do you mean?"
"Do you believe in fate, Charlotte?"