My eyes flutter closed and there’s the unmistakable sound of New York City traffic whizzing past my window while I’m cocooned in here. With Xavier.
A sigh escapes my lips before I can stop it, and I open my eyes to see him staring at me.
He doesn’t bother to look away so I’m the one to who breaks our gaze.
Careful, Malynda, I tell myself, and am a little surprised at my use of my old name. From the moment I changed it, I’d been careful to never think of it again, even just in my own head. Until now.
The rest of the drive is in silence. Quiet but not awkward. The stress of the day slowly seeps from my bones, and I feel my muscles loosen and relax. When the limo finally stops I peer out the window and am surprised where we’ve arrived.
“Um, Xavier?”
“Yup?”
“This is The Barn.”
“Yup again.”
“Like, one Michelin star, top 100 best restaurant in the world, Gourmet’s best new chef, Jaxon Sinclair’s place, The Barn.”
“You’ve heard of it, then. Good.” He shuffles forward in his seat.
I blink at his response. “Heard of it?! I’ve been DYING to go here.”
“Well, we’re here, let’s go. I’m starving too.” The limo door opens and he starts to climb out.
“Er, no. Nope.” I sink as far back into the leather seat as I can.
“What? Why?”
“I’m… wait, no, we are in pajamas, Xavier.”
“So?”
“No.” I shake my head and sink deeper into the shadows.
He laughs and takes my hand. “It’s fine, come on!”
“There are dress codes in these places, Xavier.”
“And you are in keeping with the code. Trust me. Come on, we’ll be late.” He ignores my protests and drags me out of the limo. I stumble out onto the footpath and Xavier pulls me close against him, so close I can feel his heart beat against my cheek. “Come on, I got you,” he whispers and pushes me through the restaurant entrance, ignoring the groups of people glaring at us as we skip the queue.
It’s dark inside, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. There’s a little waiting area, a hostess’s podium just to the right. We’re the only ones standing here, even though I can see the restaurant is full and buzzing over Xavier’s shoulder. He gives me a quick wink and lets go of me as a guy I recognize from his profile in the Times comes over to us.
“Xavier. Buddy!” The men hug and Xavier turns to me.
“This is the guest of honor, Malynda. Malynda, this is Jaxon,”
I take the hand offered to me, voice completely lost.
“She’s a little bit starstruck. Apparently, you’re a big deal,” Xavier says and Jaxon just grins.
“You guys ready? I have your table all set.”
I pull my jacket tighter around me, hoping no one will notice the slippers in the dark as Jaxon leads us through his restaurant. I try not to drool as I watch the plates being carried past us, and colorful cocktails being concocted at the long bar, stretching the length of the dining room. He takes us through a door that leads us through a bustling kitchen and then another door and it’s instantly quieter.
“Where are we going?” I whisper to Xavier as Jaxon presses on a button by what looks like a freight elevator.
“Up.”
“Where up?”
“Up up.”
I bite back a growl and just glare at him instead. Before I can ask another question, the elevator doors open and Xavier ushers me inside.
“Have a great night! My guys will take care of you,” Jaxon says, not following us into the elevator.
“Wait… where…” I start but don’t get to finish as the doors close.
“He’s not coming with us. He has a restaurant to run. Apparently, it has one Michelin star and is on the World’s 100 best restaurants list,” Xavier mimics me, and I punch him on the arm like I’ve been wanting to do since he made me get out of the limo in pajamas. “Ow! Meanie!”
“Don’t you forget it!”
He just shakes his head and holds out his hand to me.
“Come on, time to eat.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re here,” he whispers and tilts his chin.
I spin around and see, we’re on top of the world.
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips grazing my ear as he gently pushes against my hips and guides me forward onto the roof of the building. My mouth is open and silent as I take in the view in front of me. There, with the backdrop of the Empire State Building, is a single table set up in the middle of the roof, with a vase of sunflowers and an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, this place is reserved only for private parties. And by private, I mean people who know Jaxon on a first name basis.”
“And how is that you?”
“Well, it gets boring calling each other Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Kent when you’re doing business together.”
“You and Jaxon?”
“Yup.”
“Business? How?”
“Kaine and I own the building.”
I shake my head. Who is this Xavier? This business mogul. He’s all grown up now, I guess. It makes me sad that there’s so much I don’t know about him. But then who’s fault is that?
“Come, I can hear your stomach rumbling from here.”
He pulls out a chair and sits down. I can’t stop touching the plate and the silverware. It’s all so beautiful. And then I remembered what he said.
“You remembered.” I don’t even have to tell him what I’m talking about.
He smiles, pulling the napkin out of the wine glass. “Of course. You didn’t think I’d forget your birthday, did you?”
“I don’t remember yours,” I admit, my cheeks flushing. Or maybe it’s the effects of the champagne.