Free My Dates With The Dom by Eden Elgabri Page A

hostess looked at Michael imploringly. The place was busy and she couldn't wait for us all day while we chit-chatted.
    He grinned wickedly and we moved on while my ex-husband still sputtered and his girlfriend fumed. No way was anyone at that table enjoying their meal. Michael, on the other hand, went out of his way to flame the fire.
    First, we were seated on the upper level, so not only did we have a bird's eye view of my family, but they had just as good a view of us. Second, the table we had was better and harder to get than the one my ex had. That had to go up his ass a mile. Third, whenever he could, Michael would place his hand on mine or lean in to me. I didn't care how he pissed off the asshole relations, but the girls didn't need the show.
    Somewhere during the appetizer I remembered the hostess had called him Mr. Manning. My eyes widened. Michael Manning. Couldn't be. Holy shit. “I thought your name was Stevens,” I said out of the blue.
    "Still? Come on. You know it's Michael not Giles, why would you think the last name I used in the email addy was real?"
    "I don't know. I just assumed it was and you never said differently.” I was glad I was far enough away that the girls wouldn't notice my smile was phony.
    "You never mentioned your real last name,” he countered.
    I stared at him. “It comes up on your phone when I call you. Yours comes up as ‘private number.’”
    "Does it make a difference who I am? Have I changed in any way?” There was emotion in his eyes that I couldn't quite discern.
    No, it didn't matter. My smile relaxed into a real one. “Are you kidding? If I had known I would have asked for much more help with my homework.” That, at least, made him laugh.
    In the middle of our meal he took out the Austrian crystal necklace and placed it around my neck. Anyone looking would have thought they were diamonds. And for the first time, I actually wondered if they were. I couldn't help it. At that point I oohed and ahhed just so the bimbo would hopefully stroke out. If nothing else, I know two people who left with indigestion.
    My phone buzzed and I checked the text. “We'll call for the details tomorrow. Nice bling. Way to go mom.” Well, at least one of them was happy for me. More than likely she was just pissed at her father. I nodded in their direction as they left.
    I turned back to Michael. “Nice performance. What was it all about?"
    He took another bite of his gnocchi which gave him a moment to think. Finally, he just shrugged. “Damned if I know. I just didn't like the way he looked at you. And the twit he's with? She's a visible bubblehead."
    "She may be stupid, but she's crafty just the same. And has rather large breasts. We can't forget them."
    "Performance enhanced, no doubt.” I laughed and he held up a forkful of gnocchi. “Are you sure you don't want a bite?"
    I wrinkled my nose. “Positive. But I guess that means you'd like to try the Bolognese.” I pushed my plate closer to him and he stabbed the pasta.
    "Um, good,” he said before he slid the plate back. “I am sorry if this causes problems with your kids though. Were they very angry? I'm assuming the text was from one of them?"
    "It'll be okay. One thinks it's cool. The other will come around. Unfortunately, they all think the necklace is mine and will probably want a good look at it next weekend when they come to visit.” That was going to be a problem. I'd have to think up some lie where the clasp broke and it slipped off without me noticing.
    Michael stared into space for a moment and cleared his throat. “I'd like you to keep the necklace."
    Oh shit, was this going to be his send off? My hands clenched and I barely breathed.
    "I don't think we need a contract any more. We've explored our fantasies and can move on from here.” I must have paled because Michael reached for my hand. “I say we continue with the Saturday nights, but don't plan out the sex. Just let it happen.” He looked to me expectantly, like