Callie took the last sip of wine and set the empty glass on the bathroom counter then peered at herself in the mirror. She had on Olivia’s white sundress, showing off the tan she had newly acquired from working outside. It had been a long time since she’d spent this much effort on herself, and as she viewed her reflection, she thought about how nice it was to get dressed up, have a nice meal and good conversation. Slipping on her sandals and a silver bangle to match her earrings, she grabbed the empty wine glass and headed downstairs.
She hadn’t had time to get nervous until that moment, but as soon as she saw Luke Sullivan standing in the doorway, looking like some sort of movie star, she had to catch her breath, the jitters swarming her. She couldn’t stop looking at the flecks of gray in his blue eyes, his easy smile, the gentle swing of his strong arms. She felt herself blushing and looked away. Wyatt had come in for dinner. He had let Luke in and run off, calling for Olivia, who had jumped in the shower earlier to get the heat off her.
“Hey,” Luke said, as if he knew her better than he did. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she said, hoping she didn’t come off too nervous. All those things she’d read about him were clouding her thoughts. “Let me just say goodbye to my friend Olivia. What time should she expect us back?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a laugh as if the question was ridiculous, but that curiosity in his eyes had returned, and it was intoxicating.
She’d wanted to make sure Olivia knew when to expect her, since she was going out with someone she’d only just met—he was still practically a stranger. But then again, maybe it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Luke. Maybe he was hoping if things went well, she might not come home at all. The outrage of this settled in her chest before she convinced herself that she was jumping to conclusions. Yes, the papers had all painted him as a playboy. But the Sullivans were a family that the locals loved to hate. The drama kept things interesting in that small town.
“Hello,” Olivia said, shuffling up next to them, goggling as she took the empty wine glass from Callie. She’d done her hair and changed her clothes. “Olivia Dixon.” She held out her other hand, now clean and smooth, toward Luke, glancing over at Callie who had to hide her smirk. Olivia obviously wanted to say something more but she didn’t. Usually full of words, she seemed to have lost them all.
“Luke Sullivan.” Luke shook her hand.
He glanced around but then his gaze returned to Callie. Perhaps he was being polite and didn’t want to pry. She wished she could’ve whipped the place up into better shape before having a millionaire come through its doors, but there was no use getting stressed out about it. There was nothing she could do now.
“We should probably get going,” he said.
Olivia offered Callie a smile that was riddled with questions and Oh my Gods, but Callie tried not to look at her for fear she’d get too nervous. Olivia stepped back, allowing Callie and Luke to leave. As they walked out into the heat of the sunshine, Callie slipped her sunglasses on, after debating whether or not to just hold them and squint so she’d have something to occupy her hands.
Luke opened the passenger side door of the Range Rover for her, the car purring as he climbed in behind the wheel.
“I thought we could have dinner on my boat tonight.”
Callie’s mind immediately went back to that bikini model in the photo and she suddenly felt like nothing special. She’d spent extra time on herself, scrubbing away all the dirt and paint, applying her make-up and adding shimmery lip-gloss when she usually wouldn’t. She’d worn Olivia’s white dress.
When she didn’t respond, he said, “I don’t want the press to think I’m cheating on Ashley. That’s why I thought we could have dinner somewhere secluded.”
Her pulse throbbed in her ears, and she felt the prickle of heat beneath her cheeks. Did he say cheating? And who was Ashley? He was asking Callie out to dinner when he had a girlfriend? She stared at that smug face, trying to keep her eyes from noticeably narrowing. There was no way she was going to stoop so low.
“You have a girlfriend?” she asked as calmly as she could, immediately regretting it because now it might look like she was hoping he didn’t, when she wasn’t. After all, this wasn’t really a date, was it? It was only a kind gesture to repay her. She just didn’t want to get in the middle of things.
She must’ve looked horrified because it seemed to take him off guard. After a moment, he tipped his head back and laughed. “You look concerned,” he said, still grinning. “I haven’t dated Ashley in about four months but her manager thinks it would be best with her upcoming movie release to keep it quiet so as not to take the focus off the premier.”
The way he could read her was unsettling. “I’m sorry,” she said. How terrible that he’d broken up with his girlfriend months ago and he couldn’t even feel comfortable taking someone to dinner for fear it would get back to the tabloids.
“About what?”
Not wanting to go into her opinions about his lifestyle and the press, she said simply, “I’m sorry that you and your girlfriend broke up.”
“Oh. Well, we weren’t even exclusively dating, but when the media sees you out more than once, they hunker down for the proposal shot.”
“My God,” she said, realizing how totally different their lives were.
Six
After a few minutes’ drive down the road, Luke pulled into the parking lot of a nearby marina and shut off the engine.
He started typing on his phone. “Okay, I’m just putting in our order with the chef. I figured for dinner, we could both get a lobster frittata. I like caviar on mine. How does that sound?” His head popped up when he’d finished typing.
A lobster what? She wasn’t sure how to answer. Her idea of fancy food was getting a side salad instead of fries.
She’d assumed they were going to sit in a beachside tiki bar somewhere like they had for lunch and sip on pi?a coladas while reggae music played around them. But now she had visions of her hair pulling out of her clip as the wind tore through her on some boat while she held on to a lobster something or other for dear life. He glanced at her briefly, obviously waiting for an answer.
“I’ve never had that before,” she said honestly. “So I don’t know.”
It seemed as if understanding dawned on him, and she thought back to the article that had said how the Sullivans were out of touch with the average person. He typed something else on his phone and then looked at her. “If you could have your favorite seafood, what would it be?”
“I always get a crab cake. Maybe some shrimp on the side.” Quickly, worried he might be judging her choices in some way, to make it sound better, she added, “With a side salad.”