I Shouldn't Fall for You

Tessa

The sound of my three-inch stilettos hitting the floor echoes through the penthouse as I make my way downstairs. We have a schedule, a literal schedule, and it is a lot.

I’m not even sure how I’ll be able to be a human during the weekends. Tonight is date night, the first of many, and then the next night is the engagement party.

The weekend after is friends’ night. I get to go out with Dominic, his friends, and mine to a club. The only good thing about all this is the alcohol.

Dominic is standing in the living room dressed in a dark navy-blue suit without a tie, his eyes glued to the phone in his hands as the pads of his thumbs run across the screen.

He glances up at me quickly then toward my hand, at the large five-carat oval engagement ring sitting on my finger, before turning back to his phone.

I can’t stop my eyes from rolling as I reach the last step.

It’s far from my style, something I wouldn’t pick out, and I can only assume Dominic bought the first ring he was shown when buying it.

My dress is a simple black dress that hugs my curves and makes me feel confident in myself. My makeup, like always, is simple and light.

I’ve never been someone who wears a lot of makeup, and my dirty blonde hair falls in waves down my open back.

I follow Dominic down the elevators, out of the lobby, and into the SUV waiting out front. Neither one of us speak to the other, and the car ride to the restaurant is quiet.

The SUV comes to a stop, and I look out the tinted window to find paparazzi waiting outside. It’s amazing how many people are interested in Dominic’s sex life.

I must be the topic of choice in all the women’s groups in town.

Dominic gets out of the car first, and then his outstretched hand appears in front of me. I take it with a small smile attached to my face as I place my fingers lightly in his and step out.

Dominic’s hand leaves mine and goes to my lower back as I look up at him, his gray eyes piercing mine, speaking words unspoken.

Words no one notices, but I can see the disdain behind them. He wants to be anywhere but here with me.

I look away, leaving the smile plastered over my face as we walk into the restaurant. His hand doesn’t leave my lower back until we reach the table.

I sit in the chair then smile my thanks to the hostess before she walks away. Neither of us speaks until the waiter walks over and asks for our drink order.

Dominic orders a bourbon and then stares at his phone. “I’ll have the same, thanks,” I say before the waiter walks away.

My words cause Dominic’s eyes to jump up from his phone to me, a look of shock and surprise on his face. Better than the disdain and hate he showed me earlier.

I quickly shrug at him before looking down at the menu on the table in front of me.

When the waiter finally arrives with our drinks, we order dinner—Dominic a steak, medium rare, and for me, the duck.

I grab my glass of bourbon and take a sip, surprised by how smooth it is even though there’s still a small burn as it slides down my throat.

The silence between us is deafening, but I bite my tongue, swallowing the words that want to come out. I’m not entirely sure what to say, and Dominic doesn’t seem interested in any type of talking.

The minutes tick by slowly, too slowly, and I can’t keep quiet anymore. My eyes move up from my empty glass to look at him, his gaze fixed on his phone.

“The engagement party is tomorrow. Do you know what you’re wearing?” I ask.

Dominic doesn’t respond, doesn’t even make a move to show he heard me.

I try again. “What are you reading?” My question is met with silence.

I can feel my annoyance growing at his childlike behavior in giving me the silent treatment, so I reach my hand across the table and grab his bourbon, taking a sip from it.

This causes a reaction. His eyes meet mine, and I can see the fire behind them. I’ve pissed him off.

I smirk at him before taking another sip. “Oh, sorry, were you going to drink this?” I ask sweetly. I stretch my arm out, holding his glass out toward him.

He says nothing, makes no movement toward the outstretched glass.

“No? I can have it? How sweet, Dominic,” I say, bringing the glass back toward me and up to my lips, finishing the dark amber liquid in one quick gulp.

I shove back the strong urge to grimace at the burn.

I place the empty glass in front of him. “Maybe next time you’ll answer me.” I hold his dark gaze, refusing to break the apparent stare-down we’ve started.

Our waiter places two new glasses of bourbon in front of us, and Dominic looks away first, causing a smile to form on my face.

The rest of dinner goes by quietly, neither of us speaking to the other.

My fun with stealing his drink obviously didn’t do anything, but at this rate, I’m not really sure what to do to get him to be nicer to me. He could at least try.

I don’t think I’m asking for much given our situation.

We leave the restaurant the same way we arrived: smiling and with Dominic’s hand on my lower back.