Billionaire

Chapter 16

Achingly slowly, the limo draws to a stop, and as my eyes focus on the dimly-lit exterior of the restaurant, I realize that it's most definitely not the Italian diner Benjamin mentioned yesterday.

"We're not going to 'Picaro's', then?" I ask quietly.

"No. This place just opened up so I figured we'd try it. Come." He informs me as he slides the car door open, stepping out as I pause momentarily to pull down my skirt.

"Come." He repeats again, slightly more forcefully this time, as I climb out of the comfort of the car and join him on the sidewalk.

As my eyes try to understand what the glistening gold sign hanging above us reads, I feel a light tug on my lower arm, and then, without warning, Benjamin's hand latches onto mine. My natural instincts kick in, and I yelp and tug my hand from his grasp.

"What are you doing?" I whisper-shout as he turns around, reading my thoughts exactly.

"I don't want you being dragged away by paparazzi."

And then, once again, he grabs my hand, more roughly this time, and walks me towards the door.

He's holding my hand- this God of a man is holding my hand! Oh my-

The first flash hits my eyes, and I yelp as I squint to try and adjust to the flashing cameras. Benjamin's face stays completely emotionless as he weaves us through the crowd of people, and I can't understand how he's staying so calm. As we stumble through the door; well, I stumble, he gracefully walks, I finally manage to express my concerns, confused to find myself panting through my words.

"Those people...have all those pictures...of you."

He turns to me, and I can see he's panting too, but much less loudly and he somehow still looks calm and collected.

"What?"

I realize a waitress is trying desperately to tug my jacket off, and I let my arms fall slack in order to help her out.

"I figured you didn't like pictures-"

"-they can't keep them, Aria. Alejandro has his ways." He states coolly as another waitress removes his blazer, swiftly hanging it up on a rack beside us.

Holy...

All my thoughts drift away from me as I focus on the tight, blue shirt underneath his blazer, and although it has a clean collar and looks professional enough, the way he has the top two buttons undone leaves me even more breathless than I already am. I notice for the first time that the waitress behind him still hasn't made a move to leave, and I can tell it's because she's just as stunned by the beauty standing before her as I am. A jealous churning begins in my stomach as I watch her flush a deep crimson as she hastily leads us into the restaurant.

I realize everyone else seated in the spacious dining area has also looked up from their meals to watch the show that is Benjamin Hansen entering a restaurant, and I can't help the roll of my eyes as the waitress leads us into a more secluded area. My eyes struggle to take in the ornate, silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the silver-lined windows adorning the walls, and the dark wooden table with two silver chairs situated on each end that give the area a beautiful vintage vibe before I'm being hurried to my seat. I manage a smile in the direction of the waitress as she scurries off, despite the affection that she's showing towards Benjamin, and take my seat faultlessly.

"When did you change?"

Benjamin glances up from the wine list in momentary confusion.

"Your clothes."

"I gave myself an hour off."

I look at him incredulously.

Oh, right, of course. He's the CEO; he can do whatever the hell he wants.

"Are you ready to order, sir?"

The waiter seems to materialize out of nowhere, and now he stands with an impressive mustache and balding head in the doorway.

"Yes. We'll have a bottle of the Château Lafitte, 1999, and the 3 set dinner courses, please."

The waiter nods curtly before darting out of the room.

"What?" He asks simply at the look on my face.

I shake my head as I reply.

"You're just... rather-"

He arches an eyebrow perfectly.

"-you know what, never mind."

A charming smile appears on his lips.

"Smart girl."

I flush for reasons I can't quite explain as he leans back in his seat, positioning himself so his ankle lays on his other knee. Gazing at him, I try to think of something to start a conversation about, but nothing comes to mind.

What do we have in common?

"I apologize if this is awkward, Aria."

Did he really just say that?

"I'm not accustomed to having dinner with anyone but business partners intent on discussing why they're worth my time. This is a different setting to what I'm used to."

I can't help but smile slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

"We can talk about business if you like. Not about contracts though- wow, those are boring."

My heart lights up when he chuckles.

"I'll take your opinion into consideration."

There's a beat of silence.

Hang on, he's not used to going to dinner with anyone but business partners?

"So...you only go to dinner with business partners?" I ask him lightly.

He nods after a brief second.

"You don't go to dinner with your dates, then?"

My seemingly lighthearted question is clearly not taken well, because there are at least three seconds of bone-chilling silence before he replies.

"No. I don't; I don't date, Aria."

Oh.

The silence that envelops us after that is practically unbearable, only interrupted by the waiter bringing in a very over-priced bottle of wine, and the return of the crimson-cheeked waitress, but this time balancing starters on her arms.

I glance down at the food she places in front of us, wondering why there seems to be so little of it when I saw the number of zeroes Benjamin is offering up for it

"What is this...?" I mutter to myself, but Benjamin replies.

"Pate de foie gras."

I glance up at him.

Does he expect me to know what that means?

"Just try it."

I sigh and take a timid bite. As I try my best to digest the rich, meaty flavor exploding in my mouth, I notice out of the corner of my eye a small golden sign bolted to the wall just behind Benjamin's head.

"VIP Lounge, huh?" I read out loud. Benjamin takes a delicate sip of his wine, nodding as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"When you said dinner, I was expecting more- spaghetti and meatballs or something...if I knew we were doing this, I might have worn something different." I mutter, and a small smile tugs at his lips.

It seems my sulking is amusing him. Surprisingly though, he doesn't reply and just shakes his head as if disbelieving something I've said.

I wish we had something interesting to talk about. I really want to get to know him- for more than his looks.