Free Trouble (Orsen Brothers #1) by Aubrey Watts Page A

and reached up to loosen his tie, his dark eyes flicking up to meet mine.
    “Good evening,” a waiter said to us, pulling a notepad and a pen from his apron. “Are you ready to order?”
    Stephen nodded.
    “She’ll have the Lasagna—”
    “House salad or soup?” he asked, “we have French onion on special today.”
    “Salad,” Stephen answered without effort, “and I’ll have the filet mignon. Medium. With salad as well.”
    “And to drink?”
    “Uh—” He looked over at me and I shrugged, “Bollinger will be fine.”
    The waiter nodded and took our menus. I sighed into my hand as he walked away. I didn’t have the energy to tell him that I would have preferred the soup or that I wasn’t in the mood for champagne.
    We talked for a while. He listened to me rant about my mother and I laughed at his latest client disaster stories. When a thick layer of quiet settled over us, he fished a tiny velvet box from the pocket of his jacket and slid it across the table to me. I stared down at it with an open mouth, too stultified to speak.
    “Happy anniversary,” he said with a nod.
    I swallowed hard and licked my lips. “You didn’t have to—”
    “I know,” he interrupted. “I wanted to. Open it up. Tell me if you like it.”
    I gingerly picked up the box and eased it open. A diamond bracelet stared back at me, shimmering almost mockingly. It didn’t seem to matter to him that I didn’t wear bracelets or diamonds or really any jewelry at all. It didn’t matter that it would end up in my dresser alongside the dozens of other gratuitous gifts he had thrown at me.
    This was what he thought he needed to do to repair us.
    “Wow,” I breathed, meeting eyes with him. “It’s…beautiful. Thank you.”
    He smiled at me and waved a hand in the air. “You’re welcome. I saw it and I thought you might like it. Here, I’ll help you try it on.”
    I held out my arm to him and he lifted the bracelet from the box, undoing the tiny clasp and securing it around my small wrist. His touch did nothing for me and he seemed to feel it too. A wave of sadness flooded through me. I turned to look out the window and he did the same, furrowing his brows.
    “I—” I licked my lips and stood up. “I need to use the restroom.”
    He nodded up at me and I sped walked past him, easing through a maze of tables and chairs as a few people looked up at me from their meals. There was a woman inside the bathroom applying her lipstick in front of the mirror with an unsteady hand. I stepped past her and entered an empty stall, taking a seat on the toilet and dropping my head in my hands.
    I willed myself not to cry as I rubbed my temples. A few moments later, the door slammed shut—signaling the woman’s exit—and I exhaled a deep breath. The stillness was comforting.
    When I returned to the booth Stephen barely noticed me. He was staring out the window, wrapped up in a world of his own making. “Venus,” he said after a few minutes, clenching his jaw and raking a hand through his dark hair.
    The way he said my name made me sit up straighter. “Stephen…” I said, mimicking his somber tone. I knew what was coming—of course—but that didn’t make it any easier.
    “We need to talk,” he said, “It doesn’t matter how many dates we go on or how many gifts I give you. You’re never going to forgive me are you? This isn’t working is it?”
    “No,” I whispered, studying my hands. “It isn’t…”
    I met eyes with him—briefly—and everything he wanted to say but couldn’t washed over his face all at once. “I know,” he said instead, releasing a deep breath and standing up.
    He paused in front of the table and smiled down at me sadly.
    “I think I should go,” he whispered, bending down to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m sorry. About everything.”
    I frowned at him as he squared his shoulders and walked away. “But what about our food!” I called after him, gathering the attention of a few other diners.