Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little Secrets #1) (8 page)

“I don’t know, Mia,” Marcus replies skeptically. “If you could find a way out of it-”

“There is no way out of it,” I tell him. It’s the first time I’ve voiced the words that I’ve known deep down in my bones since the moment I left Chicago. “There’s no undoing it, there’s no pretending I didn’t steal a…” I cut myself off, because I absolutely should not say that over the phone, even if I’m fairly certain that no one is listening. I don’t want to start getting careless. “Maybe I should just enjoy life while I can and hope for the best?”
 

“Don’t talk like that. I’ll go tell him I’m the one-”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Please. He knows it was me, Marcus. There is no sense in getting yourself in trouble when he’ll just come after us both, then. We’ve discussed this before, please don’t make me say it again, okay? I need this to not be for nothing. I want to believe that he’ll give up, and that I can stay here and…be happy.”
 

“Yeah, maybe he’ll give up,” Marcus says sadly. I know he doesn’t believe that. I don’t, either, but it’s a nice thought.
 

It would be a life lived with me constantly looking over my shoulder, and I’d never get to see Marcus again. But the thought of a clean slate is appealing, even though I’d always know what I had done. The prospect of just being happy is a nice one. I haven’t felt really,
truly
happy in so long.
 

“Mia-”

“I should go,” I tell him. Caleb is picking me up for dinner in an hour, and I have to get dressed and over to the hotel he thinks I’m staying in before he arrives.
 

There is a long silence before Marcus finally says, “Okay. Call me again as soon as you can.”
 

“I will,” I tell him, even though I’m not sure it’s the truth. “Bye, Marcus.”
 

“Goodbye, Mia.”
 

On what I’m considering to be our first real date—which I am defining as an outing that does not include dinner and sex at Caleb’s apartment—he takes me to an up-and-coming hotspot in TriBeCa. There’s a line spilling out the door that stretches all the way down the block, but Caleb’s driver lets us out out near the front door, and we walk right up. Caleb doesn’t even have to show the host any kind of identification, we just walk right in and pass all of the other people waiting for a table. Inside, a hostess greets Caleb by name, and guides us to our table.
 

The inside of the restaurant is two stories, but still manages to be very cozy. The whole place is lit with candlelight, and long, white tied-back drapes cordon off different sections of the restaurant, breaking the large space into smaller, more intimate ones.
 

We’re guided to a table in the corner. It’s secluded, and I get the feeling that this table is frequently given to Caleb when he eats here.
 

Caleb slides my chair out for me, and helps me push it back toward the table once I’ve settled in. Goosebumps cover my skin as his hand glides across my shoulder as he moves to take his seat across from mine.
 

“They treat you like you own this place,” I tell him with a smile.
 

Caleb shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable, his eyes focusing on his hands, which are folded on the table.
 

“Oh my god,” I say, stunned. “You
do
own this place.”

My eyes go wide, I can’t believe it. I look around, and…wow. This is
his
. Not sure why it hits me so hard, or why it shocks me the way that it does.
 

“It was an investment,” he says casually, like restaurants are things that everyone puts money into. I find the blasé way he talks about it to be both charming, and a little maddening.
 

“I can honestly say that no one has ever taken me to their own restaurant on a date. This is a first.”
 

“Good,” he replies, grinning. He looks more relaxed than he did a moment ago. “Firsts are good, especially when they’re with me.” He gives me a sly little wink as the sommelier comes to the table and pours us some wine. Apparently Caleb had called ahead and asked for it to be decanted. Based on my sampling of the wine collection at Caleb’s apartment, I know that he has excellent taste, which means I’m in for a real treat here.
 

“I hope red is okay?” he says, like he doesn’t already know how much I love it. We toast to firsts, and clink our glasses together.
 

And wow, this red is really, really good.
 

“So, how does this work?” I ask, noticing that the waiter didn’t bring us any menus, and no one has been by to take our order.
 

“I called ahead and put an order in. I think you’ll like what they bring out for us.”
 

“Like it? I’m sure I’ll love it.” The restaurant smells like heaven; if that’s any indication of how the food tastes, ‘love’ might not be a strong enough word.
 

I take a sip of my wine, and close my eyes, letting out a soft sigh of satisfaction.
 

“You look beautiful,” Caleb says, reaching under the table and caressing my knee. “I look forward to making you look like that later. More than once,” he says, with a playful glint in his eyes.
 

I feel the flush creep into my cheeks, and look down at my glass.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
 

When I look up, he’s giving me this intense look that makes me glad we’re seated away from the crowd. “You’re driving me crazy in that dress.”
 

It’s the dress I was wearing the night that we met, the one I know that he likes on me. Even if I had something else to wear here tonight, I probably would’ve chosen this dress anyway.
 

“Good to know,” I reply, smiling.
 

“You wore that dress on purpose.”
 

“Yes.” He doesn’t need to know that wearing it was also a necessity.
 

“I’m going to make you pay for that later,” he says. His voice is low and rough, and his eyes are full of promise. “I think you’ll like it.”
 

I grin. “I’m sure I will.”
 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks. I desperately want to; it’s been a few days since I’ve had the luxury of falling asleep in his arms. Besides, he talked me into leaving my bag at his apartment, so I have to go back there anyway, and it’ll be nice to save the cost of the hotel room for one night.

“I can be persuaded to do that,” I tease.
 

Caleb playfully raises his hand. “Check!”
 

“Hey!” I say, laughing. “You’re not getting out of here that easily. You promised me food, and I expect to get it.”
 

He winks at me and says, “You’re going to need your energy for later.”
 

“Mmm,” I reply, suppressing a shiver. “I certainly hope so.”
 

Caleb opens his mouth to say something, but something or someone catches his eye. He looks the slightest bit apprehensive as he looks at me, then his gaze flits back somewhere over my shoulder. I’m tempted to turn around, but I don’t.
 

“Mia, my-”

“Caleb?”
 

* * * * *

“Ben. Hey,” Caleb says warmly.
 

I recognize the name immediately; Ben is the friend of Caleb’s who owns the software company - Caleb wanted to recommend my work to him. I look up, and see a familiar face from all the of the pictures on Caleb’s mantel. In the photographs I’ve seen of him, I didn’t notice much of a resemblance, but in real life Ben looks a lot like Caleb. He’s standing next to a beautiful young woman with curly, dark blonde hair.
 

“I see you stole my table,” Ben says, making Caleb laugh.
 

“You wish,” Caleb replies. His brows scrunch up before he says, “I recall you thinking that this was a bad investment.”
 

“Even a clock is wrong twice a day. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”
 

That is not even remotely close to how the saying goes, and I can’t help but laugh. Ben looks down at me, and smiles.
 

“Felicity,” Caleb says, leaning over to hug the woman standing next to Ben. “It’s good to see you.”
 

“It’s good to see you, too, Caleb.”
 

I’m going to take a wild guess and say that Ben and Felicity are brother and sister.
 

Caleb finally looks over at me, and his expression immediately softens. “Mia, this is my friend Ben, and his sister Felicity.”
 

“Ben, Felicity, this is my…Mia.”
 

Felicity’s gaze swings over to Caleb, her eyes bright, looking like she’s dying to tease him.
 

Ben doesn’t resist the opportunity. “Caleb’s Mia, huh?” he says, grinning. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
 

“You, too,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand. I do the same with Felicity.
 

Caleb looks over at me, like he wants me to give him the okay to invite them to sit down and eat with us. I give him a discreet nod. Much as I was looking forward to having a quiet dinner, just the two of us, I can’t help but wonder what I’ll find out about Caleb with his friends around.
 

“Would you like to join us?” Caleb asks.
 

* * * * *

“Wait,” I say, laughing so hard that tears are threatening to spill down my cheeks. “You jumped off the
ski lift
? Because of a
bird
?”
 

Felicity and Caleb are cracking up, while Ben’s all red-faced and looking annoyed, like he’s completely done with being teased by his sister and best friend.
 

“To be fair,” he says seriously, “I had been drinking, and I didn’t
know
it was a bird. It moved really quickly, and we were almost at the top of the slope, so it’s not like I plummeted into a ravine or anything. It’s not nearly as funny as Caleb is making it out to be.”
 

Caleb leans over and whispers in my ear, “It was funnier.”
 

I smile at him, loving the demeanor that he has around his friends. There isn’t an air of pretense around them; in fact, I feel like I’ve known Ben and Felicity much longer than I actually have.
 

“Do you have any crazy spring break stories, Mia?” Felicity asks, as she cuts a piece of her chicken.
 

Reality slams into me, and I remember that I’m sitting at a table full of people who have probably never wanted for anything in their lives. They’re all looking at me expectantly, but there’s an anxiousness in Caleb’s eyes, like he knows what I’m going to say. I’m desperate to come up with some kind of anecdote, but being put on the spot makes my brain slow down to the point of being useless. It’s like being in a hurry to get out of the door and looking for your car keys in a frantic rush, when you were too busy to be able to see that they were right next to your purse the whole time.
 

“Nothing?” Ben says. “Come on, there’s got to be something.”
 

Caleb’s warm hand slides down my back, instantly easing my tense muscles. “Ben, she-”

“No spring break stories, I’m afraid,” I admit with a smile. “I never actually went on spring break. No, I mean, I went
on
spring break, of course, because school was out and everything. I just never went on a trip for it.” Caleb’s hand continues its soothing circuit up and down my spine, and I squeeze his thigh under the table as a silent thank you.
 

The way Caleb looks at me…yeah, he knew why I hesitated.
 

Ben and Felicity are looking down at their plates, obviously uncomfortable. I’m desperate to break the tension, and now that there aren’t three pairs of eyes trained on me waiting for an answer, I feel like I can breathe.
 

“I did put my spring break to good use though,” I say, and with those words, I can see the tension fall right out of Ben and Felicity’s shoulders. “My friends and I would raid their parents’ liquor cabinets during the daytime hours, and we’d see who could come up with the best boozy party treats. Mostly we used Easter candy to do it, since it was around that time, and we usually had a ton of it at our disposal.”
 

“What kind of Easter candy?”
 

I shrug. “Depends on what we were doing. Candy covered chocolate eggs, jelly beans. We’d make Peeps cocktails.”
 

“Peeps cocktails?” Ben asks curiously.
 

“Yeah, those marshmallow bunnies and birds?”
 

Ben and Caleb look at each other like they have no clue what I’m talking about. Felicity looks like she’s about to bust out laughing.
 

“Did you guys not have Easter baskets?”
 

“We did,” Ben begins shyly, “but-”

“No Peeps? Oh my god, you guys missed out. Note to self: find you some Peeps. They weren’t so good in the cocktails we made, but they’re great if you open the package and let them get stale.”
 

Now everyone at the table is giving me a vaguely horrified look. I can’t help but laugh.
 

“Fine,” I say. “More for me, then.”
 

After we are finished with dinner, and working on our second bottle of wine, Ben asks me what I do for a living.
 

I look over at Caleb and narrow my eyes, because I’m fairly certain that he put Ben up to this. If that’s the case though, the whole evening would have to be a setup, and I’ve been having such a good time that I don’t want to believe it. Caleb shrugs innocently, like this is all a complete surprise to him. Stupidly, perhaps, I believe that it is.
 

“I’m a software developer,” I tell him. Because I don’t want him to get the idea that I’m looking for a job, I quickly add, “I freelance.”
 

Ben’s eyes light up, like he’s a kid at Christmas. Unless he’s a really good actor, no way was this a set up, and that realization makes me relax back against Caleb’s arm, which is slung across the back of my chair.