Free My Dates With The Dom by Eden Elgabri

the quiet side on the drive there. Was it because he only planned on seeing me occasionally when the mood struck? Would there be any kind of contract at all? Maybe this was the way he planned on ending it, with a nice dinner like a consolation prize.
    A cacophony of sound assailed my ears as soon as we entered the restaurant. Now I could add headache to sour stomach. If he didn't ease my mind before the meal, there was a better than good chance I wouldn't be able to get it down no matter how haute the cuisine. The tinkle of china and crystal sounded more like the chime signaling the next round. Ambiance and delectable scents couldn't penetrate my anxiety. I decided to ask him point blank the second we were seated at the table. I mean, really, it's not like things could get any tenser.
    The hostess could have been a mime for all I heard her say. When she smiled and turned, Michael placed his hand on the small of my back which gave me the signal to move. I'd been following her half way through the restaurant with Michael a step or two behind me when I heard “Mom?"
    The world turned on its axis. Of all the scenarios in the world, the one where I'd stroll by my girls, my ex, and his bimbo had never entered my mind.
    I stopped dead in my tracks and Michael didn't have time to brace himself. He bumped into me and we both almost toppled over. I stood frozen staring at the four of them at the table. Nothing had changed. Except I'd been replaced.
    I'd almost asked to go elsewhere when Michael mentioned the restaurant because it had been the one place in the city we'd consistently gone as a family. It seemed almost a sacrilege to go with someone else. Yet here they all sat. A chill washed over me, but somehow I battened down the hatches on the storm of emotions raging through me.
    No way would I let any of them know how much it hurt. Although Alana looked at me as if she'd killed my dog and didn't know what to do about it. Eliza was five minutes younger and a few years less mature. She'd yelled out when she spotted me and her eyes spit fire in Michael's direction.
    I had watched their eyes as they turned from me to Michael. The myriad of stunned expressions ranged from guilt—Alana, hurt—Eliza, anger—the ex, and disbelief—the bimbo.
    "Your twins?” Michael asked as he took my arm.
    I nodded.
    He leaned into me. “Let me guess. They've never seen you with any man but their dad?"
    "How could you tell?"
    "The hostile glare was a pretty good clue,” he whispered. “Are you going to introduce me?"
    "Not sure that's wise,” I whispered back.
    The entire table leaned forward as if the slight slant would enable them to be privy to our conversation. It didn't. The girlfriend looked like she was about to blow a gasket. Her eyes bulged and her face scrunched up as if she smelled something foul. I'm not sure if that had to do with the fact that she was stuck with my kids while I was on a date, or the fact that hands down, I was with the better looking man. If she'd know how much larger his bank account was, she probably would have keeled over in her soup.
    The father of my children couldn't mask his fury. His purple face also didn't sit well with the bimbo.
    "Vicks, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked. He might as well have been the evil stepmother catching Cinderella at the ball and from the looks of things he planned on stifling my good time, as if I could have one now.
    'Vicks.’ Of all the nicknames I'd had in my life that was the one I hated the most, and often I wondered if that's why he insisted on calling me it. “We're about to have dinner. What else would I be doing here?"
    Michael choked back a laugh and nodded at him. “We eat here about once a week,” he lied. “It's one of our favorite places."
    Oh goody. A pissing contest. Just what I needed.
    "Girls, see you next week.” I turned back to my knight in less than shining armor, “Michael, I think the hostess is waiting to seat us."
    "Mr. Manning?” The