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that was rude of us. I was just telling Leigha that an urgent message came in on my phone and we’re going to have to excuse ourselves.”
    “Oh, can’t Leigha stay?” my mother asked, the only one who cared if I was there or not. I felt a little bad about letting her down, but not enough to stay. Especially not if Dylan was taking me upstairs to give me an orgasm.
    “I’m sorry, we have a commitment after this, so she’ll have to come with me. As an apology, dinner is on me. We’ll see you tomorrow. It was a pleasure meeting all of you.”
    With a nod, he pulled me from the booth and we were on our way out of the restaurant. Dylan stopped at the hostess station to say,
    “Put their dinner on my account, Melanie. And send them a bottle of the Perrier-Jouët 2006 Belle Epoque Brut. Have our meals sent upstairs along with a piece of the mascarpone chocolate cheesecake.”
    “Yes, sir. Office or penthouse?”
    “Penthouse.”

8
Leigha
    W e rode the elevator in silence, standing side-by-side, not touching. The lack of contact was excruciating. After sitting so close in the restaurant with his arm around me and then his hand on my leg, the space between us made me feel alone. And nervous. I was pretty sure he hadn’t changed his mind. But what if he had? Halfway through the ride, I couldn’t take the quiet anymore.
    “I’m sorry about my sisters. And my mom kind of hitting on you.” I didn’t know what else to say. They were rude, and it was embarrassing. Dylan looked at me, his eyes impossible to read.
    “Your mother was fine. Your sisters are atrocious. Did they really steal your boyfriends in high school?”
    “There weren’t that many,” I said. “But, yeah. They didn’t want to go out with the guys. They just wanted to, I don’t know, humiliate me? Show me what a dork I was? I was in the math club and the chess club so it’s not like I didn’t already know.”
    Dylan gave me another long, unreadable look. I forced myself not to squirm, or tug at the hem of my skirt.
    “They’re bitches, Leigha. They’ll probably always be bitches. Don’t let them bother you.”
    “I try not to. Mostly, I avoid them.”
    “Good.” Dylan turned his attention back to the elevator doors, making me even more edgy. Finally, the elevator stopped at a floor marked P*. Taking my arm, Dylan led me into a luxurious entryway complete with a crystal chandelier and polished parquet floors.
    Opposite the elevator hung an oil painting that made me wish I knew more about art. It was certainly original and undoubtedly expensive. Below the painting, a wide, decorative China bowl sat between two fresh flower arrangements on an antique sideboard.
    Tall, wide double doors flanked the entryway. In contrast to the casino’s more modern decor, it was like entering another world.
    Dylan punched in a code on the doors to our right. Inside, it was more of the same. Polished parquet in a warm, honey-toned wood, covered by Oriental rugs. More oil paintings hung on the walls. Antiques were everywhere.
    The space was masculine, yet welcoming. The furniture was large enough to accommodate a man of Dylan’s height, but not bulky. I followed Dylan into what appeared to be the main living room, trying to take it all in without looking like I was overwhelmed by the opulence.
    He stopped in the middle of the room, between a long brown leather sofa and gas fireplace surrounded by a hand carved mantle that would have been at home in an English gentleman’s club.
    “Take off your dress.”
    My brain stuttered as my body flared with arousal. I was still turned on from his teasing in the restaurant, but the elevator ride had given me time to cool off just enough for insecurity to creep back in. Take off my dress in the middle of the living room? I couldn’t do that. It was too exposed.
    One look at Dylan’s face told me I didn’t have a choice. I’d made a deal - he was my date, and I gave him what he wanted. Maybe I should’ve thought that