Marcus wrapped his arm protectively around me as we walked into Il Mentire, the most expensive restaurant in the city. When he’d asked me where my dream dinner date would take place, I was half kidding by suggesting it. My palms were a bit sweaty, but I couldn’t risk staining the silk of my brand new dress by wiping them off.
Next to me, Marcus, of course, looked as cool as always. How did he manage to look as comfortable in a custom tailored suit that cost more than my first car as in jeans and bare feet? All part of his magic.
The second we stepped into the dining room, the sound of clinking glasses and the hum of conversation died abruptly.
The maître d’ rushed over to greet us with a tight smile on his face. “Ah, Mr. Moore and guest. Welcome. I’m Giorgio. We’ve a lovely private dining room prepared for you this evening.”
Marcus glared at him. “I requested a table by the window, I believe.”
Giorgio went pale. “I-I-yes, of course. We, that is… I… the… uh, we assumed an honored guest such as yourself would appreciate privacy.” His eyes darted around the room and I was certain with just slightly less professional training, he would have bolted.
My own nerves forgotten for the moment, I took pity on the man. “That’s very thoughtful. However, as Marcus said, we’d prefer to stay in the main dining room. The view of the harbor lights is so lovely.”
Giorgio sighed and nodded. “Of course. Let me show you to your table.”
The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the crisp white tablecloth as we took our seats.
“Thank you,” Marcus replied.
“Your server will be along in just a moment,” Giorgio said. “Would you like to start with drinks? We have a lovely selection of red wines.”
Marcus frowned. “Sure, whatever.”
As soon as Giorgio walked away, I leaned in to speak to Marcus, the room around us was still silent. “You didn’t have to be rude to him. He’s just doing his job.”
“No. His job is to do what his customers want. At the prices this dump charges, they should be offering hand jobs and diamond-encrusted silverware.”
I gasped. “Marcus!”
“What?”
“Don’t use that kind of language in here. Everyone is watching us. And listening.”
He looked around. “So? Rich people know about hand jobs, Olivia.”
That was when the waitress and the sommelier showed up. In the rush of wine tasting and menu discussion, I could ignore the attention we were getting from the other diners. Many were still staring, but at least they’d gone back to talking and eating their food again.
Once we were alone again, Marcus took my hand and squeezed it. He looked deep into my eyes, silently asking if I was ready. Even though I wasn’t, not really, I nodded.
“Silly, really,” Marcus said, his voice a bit louder than necessary. “Pasta is pasta, don’t you think?”
“No. There are levels.”
He groaned. “Oh, here we go. Little Mary Sunshine, always be nice and polite and positive about everything.”
“I am not! I’m just not a rude, grumpy asshole who takes his frustrations out on everyone around him.”
“Honestly, Olivia, this is getting tiresome.”
“Tiresome?” My voice rose sharply. The surrounding tables fell silent again. All eyes turned our way, avidly soaking in the drama. “I’m tiresome for wanting to enjoy a nice meal? What is your problem?”
“You are, actually. The constant whining and complaining about everything I do. If I’m such terrible company, what are you doing with me?”
My stomach clenched before I replied. “Sometimes I wonder that myself.”
His expression hardened, a flash a pain in his eyes. I felt a tear about to fall from mine. I mouthed, I’m sorry.
Marcus shook his head. “After everything I’ve done for you, Olivia, this is unacceptable. Ungrateful.”
My lips parted. I wanted to tell him to stop. Say it was enough.
“Really, who do you think you are?” His hands curled into fists on the table. “The things I’ve done to keep you happy. Keep you close to me. Took shit from my employees and friends. Faked a whole break-in at your apartment. All of that for what? You’re still not satisfied!”
I gasped. “Faked… what? How? My voice rose in disbelief and anger. “You manipulated me, controlled me! What else have you lied to me about? Was Elle just another pawn in your twisted game?” My heart pounded in my chest.
“Elle had nothing to do with this,” Marcus insisted, gritting his teeth. “No one gives a shit about your annoying roommate.”
“Fuck you, Marcus!” I shouted, standing up abruptly.
He rose too, towering over me, eyes narrowed.
The slap that followed echoed through the silent restaurant. Heads turned, whispers erupted all around us. My hand stung. I hadn’t even realized I moved, let alone hit Marcus.
I ran into the ladies’ room to splash cold water on my face and take a deep breath. Neither made me feel any better.
When I emerged, Marcus was standing there, arms crossed. His eyes were hard. Watching. Calculating.
“Are you satisfied now that you’ve made a huge scene?” This whole restaurant thinks I’m some kind of monster who makes girls cry.”
“Don’t you watch the news, Marcus? Everyone in the city knows exactly the kind of man you are. Tonight just confirmed it. If you don’t like your reputation, consider changing your behavior.” I pushed past him toward the exit.
He grabbed my arm, fingers biting deep. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I wrenched free, pulse racing. “Home. Away from you.”
“The hell you are. I won’t be lectured by a girl half my age.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t have to listen to anything I have to say ever again. Get out of my way.”
He moved in front of me, blocking my path. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“No? You gonna hurt me just like you do everyone who doesn’t obey the mighty Marcus Moore?” I was shouting now and shaking.
“Go to hell, Liv,” he said coldly.
I spat back, “Hell is wherever you are.” Tears filled my eyes as I stormed toward the exit.
“Olivia, wait,” Marcus called out, following me to the front of the restaurant. He grabbed my arm again, forcing me to face him. His eyes bore into mine, a mix of anger and concern playing across his rugged features. “Don’t go.”
“Let go of me!” I cried, pulling my arm free.
“Is everything okay here?” Giorgio was there, of course, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between Marcus and me.
“We’re fine,” Marcus snapped.
I shook my head, wiping at the tears streaming down my face. “Could you please get me a ride home?” I asked, my voice cracking with emotion.
“Of course. There’s a car outside that can take you.” Giorgio took my arm and led me to the front door of the restaurant.
We were already outside when I heard Marcus call my name again. I didn’t turn around.
***
I stepped into my apartment, the once familiar space now feeling alien and tainted. Broken glass crunched beneath my heels as I surveyed the damage. My heart ached at the sight of my personal belongings scattered carelessly across the floor.
“Focus,” I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath. Cleaning up this mess was as good a distraction as any.
I started in the living room, picking up shattered picture frames and torn books. Each item held a memory, a piece of my life before Marcus. The thought left an odd pang in my chest.
Sorting through piles of mess actually did help calm me down, though they did nothing for the sadness that was growing inside me.
My phone rang, cutting through the heavy silence. I looked down at the screen, surprised to see Brynn’s name as I answered.
“Olivia!” Her voice dripped with concern. “I heard about your fight with Marcus. Are you all right?”
“Of course,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I know how difficult he can be,” she said, a hint of smugness creeping into her tone. “So moody. He was the same when we were together.”
“You and Marcus? He never mentioned it.”
“He’s a man of many secrets, Olivia,” Brynn purred. “You’re only just beginning to learn that.”
“Apparently so,” I muttered, my anger simmering beneath the surface.
“Listen.” She paused, as if weighing her words carefully. “I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I’d like to put our differences aside. Why don’t we grab some coffee and chat? We girls need to stick together, right?”
I clenched my teeth to keep from saying what I really thought of her fake niceness. “I… wow. That’s incredibly thoughtful of you, Brynn. I’d love to get together. Tomorrow, late morning work for you?”
“Perfect.” She sounded so pleased with herself. “Where should we meet?”
“Um,” I hesitated, thinking quickly. “There’s a bookstore near my apartment with a small café inside. It’s cozy, not too crowded. How about there?”
“Fine.” She sighed, a note of disappointment lacing her words. “It’ll be a change of pace from my usual haunts, but for you, Olivia, I’ll make an exception. Text me the address and the time. Or I could pick you up at your apartment if you prefer?”
“No,” I said a little too forcefully. “I mean, thanks, but it’s okay. We can just meet there. See you tomorrow.”
I hung up before she could say anything else and leaned against the wall, taking a shaky breath. The thought of spending even five minutes alone with Brynn made my skin crawl. But I had no choice – this was part of the plan, and I had to see it through.
“Please work,” I whispered, closing my eyes as I prayed for strength. “Please let this all be worth it.”