Put Me Back Together(57)

I couldn’t be sure that Brandon himself had been in my building. But somebody he knew had been there. Somebody he was in contact with knew my phone number and where I lived. How hard could it be for this person to pick my lock and break right in? I’d held my baseball bat—the one my father had bought for me when he’d found out I would be getting my own apartment—clutched in my sweaty palms all night with that very thought in mind. I had no idea where I would be sleeping tonight, but I knew I couldn’t go back there, not alone. I couldn’t face the two words on that piece of paper again.

This date with Lucas felt like a last meal of sorts, a tantalizing treat before the nightmare set in. I could have rescheduled, made up some excuse. In truth, a part of me had gravitated to this response, a knee-jerk reaction from years of hiding, of avoiding, of lying. But I didn’t want to lie to Lucas, and I didn’t want to be held hostage by my fear anymore. I wanted to go on my first date with a guy I thought might just be able to survive me. I wanted to disappear into his embrace and forget about what was waiting for me at home: a terror so big, so strong, I was sure it would tear me away from my moorings and I would never see Lucas again. I didn’t want to let it have me. I didn’t want to see what it had in store. So, instead, I swallowed it whole, hiding it deep inside so I could have this one night for me. For Lucas and me. For us.

Just in case it was our only chance.

I was still staring into the dark when Lucas pushed the door open and poked his head out.

“Ready to have the best meal of your life?” he said with a smile.

Was I ever.

Taking my hand, he led me through the brightly lit restaurant. I imagined maybe he’d had a special table laid out for us at the back, but that wasn’t the case. Once we reached the back wall of the restaurant, we kept going down the hallway that I assumed led to the bathrooms and the back door.

“Uh, Lucas?” I said. “Are we going to eat out by the dumpsters, or…?”

“I knew I should have blindfolded you,” he answered. “We’re almost there, so don’t get your panties in a bunch. Or, actually, whatever you want to do with your panties is fine with me.” He grinned widely over his shoulder at me.

“Shut up about my panties!” I said. “Or you’ll never get to see them.”

This seemed to sober him somewhat, and as we reached a pair of swinging doors he held them open for me, the perfect gentleman once more.

We were in the back of the kitchen. There were metal sinks and stacks of pots and a mop and bucket leaning against the wall. I was just about to ask Lucas what the hell was going on—had I worn these awful heels for dish duty?—when a guy in a white apron and chef’s hat appeared from around a corner. He had chubby cheeks and incredibly long sideburns.

“Mario, I’d like you to meet Katie,” Lucas said formally, and I shook Mario’s extended hand.

Then he took me by the arm and started leading me through the kitchen as Lucas followed behind. “You’re in for a special treat tonight,” Mario said. “An exclusive table has been set especially for you so that you might be one of the first to experience the delectable…” He paused in mid-sentence, his eyes darting around.

“Genius,” Lucas whispered, and I had to bite back a laugh.

“…genius of Chef Mario.” Mario patted himself on the chest. “In a quiet and exclusive…”

“You already said exclusive,” Lucas whispered.

“Well, whatever, man!” Mario said frowning. “I’m a chef, not a great orator. You made the lines too long anyway!”

Lucas chucked as we reached our table and Mario pulled out my chair then stalked off, grumbling. The table was out of the way of the bustle of the kitchen, next to an alcove where the employees kept their coats and bags. Unlike the tables in the main restaurant, it was nicely set with a white tablecloth, shining cutlery, and some sweet-smelling pink flowers in a vase. I leaned over to smell the flowers, and when I turned back to Lucas my mouth went dry. He’d taken off his coat and I saw that he was wearing a gray suit jacket over a crisp blue shirt, the dressiest clothes I’d ever seen him wear, even if he had matched them with dark blue jeans. He’d shined his shoes, as well. Looking at him, I couldn’t believe he was for me. He looked so gorgeous it left me speechless.

“Mario works part-time at the club,” Lucas explained as he helped me off with my coat. “He’s a culinary student, and this is his other job. The owners let him practice recipes on his days off or after hours. He brought these lobster puffs in to work once and they were so delicious Brit almost cried when she saw I’d eaten the last one. He made a special menu for us tonight. I hope you like pork chops with fudge sauce.”

I paused halfway through unfolding my napkin in my lap. “Did you say fudge sauce?” I asked, finding my voice again.

“Yup,” Lucas said with a self-satisfied smile.

I looked around the room. “I think I’m really going to like this place,” I said.

“I think I really like you,” Lucas said, his gaze intense, and I bowed my head as a blush spread across my cheeks. “And that dress,” he went on. “Did I mention yet how much I’m liking it?”

“You didn’t,” I said.

Reaching out, he ran the back of two of his fingers down my arm, causing a throb to take up inside me.