Playing With Fire. Kayla PerrinЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Good evening.”
Zienna couldn’t help herself...she watched Wendell. Watched how his face lit up as he regarded this beautiful woman.
Shit, what was wrong with her? Why did she care?
Because it was so obvious now. Obvious that Wendell only had eyes for pretty faces and sexy bodies.
“Can we get a bottle of La Dame Blanche?” Nicholas said to Ghita. “Then we could all use a few more minutes before deciding.”
“Absolutely.”
When Ghita turned to leave, Zienna once again looked at Wendell, certain she would find him ogling the waitress’s behind.
Instead, she saw him watching her.
She quickly pulled her gaze away and returned it to her menu. She was well aware that her pulse had picked up speed.
There was silence for several moments as they checked out the menu, then Nicholas suddenly said, “Hey, Youssef!” He pushed his chair back and stood to greet the manager. “How’re you doing, man?”
Nicholas and Youssef pumped hands, smiles on their faces. “You remember Zienna,” Nicholas said, gesturing to her.
“Of course.” Youssef took her hand in his. “You get more beautiful each time I see you.”
“Thank you.”
“And this is one of my best friends, Wendell Creighton. He used to play for the Chicago Bears.”
Wendell stood to shake Youssef’s hand.
Zienna tuned everything out as they chatted for about a minute, but her hearing kicked in again when Nicholas said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, babe.”
She looked up at him in alarm. “Where are you going?”
“Youssef wants to show me something in the kitchen.”
“I won’t keep him long,” the manager promised.
And then they were off.
The silence that followed was profound, with Zienna not daring to look in Wendell’s direction.
He finally broke it, saying, “You’re not going to look at me?”
Zienna drew in a sharp breath. “Why are you here?”
Wendell gave her a confused look. “Nick invited me out.”
“You know what I mean. Why are you... You know it’s not a good idea for us to be hanging out together.”
“What am I supposed to say? Hey, Nick—don’t invite me out because I used to sleep with your girl and she might be uncomfortable around me?”
Zienna said nothing. She knew he had a point.
“You want me to tell him, I will.”
She remained silent.
“So now you’ve got nothing to say?”
“I don’t like this. It can’t be comfortable for you, either. Figure out a reason to say no to us getting together, that’s all I’m saying.”
Ghita arrived with the wine and poured some for Wendell to taste. He nodded to indicate it was fine, and Ghita filled the three glasses.
Once the waitress was gone, Wendell turned his attention to Zienna. He stared, and she felt as though she were on the hot seat. “Zienna,” he said after a moment. “What are you so afraid of?”
But before she could answer, she saw Wendell’s gaze jerk upward. She looked up, surprised to see Nicholas standing there.
He smiled at both of them, reclaimed his seat and then took Zienna’s hand in his. “I think Youssef has a little crush on you. He remembers the appetizer you love, and he’s sending it to the table, complimentary.”
“Oh.” Zienna forced a little chuckle. “Well, isn’t that sweet of him?”
“Youssef’s a great guy,” Nicholas went on, speaking to Wendell. “He came to the States for school, planning to go into medicine. But he dropped out because opening a restaurant was really his passion. He told me how his family was upset, thought he would fail. Three years later, this place is a huge success.”
“That’s why I always say go after what you want,” Wendell commented.
The way you went after me, Zienna thought. Simply wanting another notch on your belt?
“Excellent,” Nicholas said. “The wine’s here.” He lifted his glass. “I’d like to make a toast.” Zienna and Wendell lifted their glasses. “To Wendell being back in town. And for him agreeing to manage my new restaurant.”
Nicholas and Wendell clinked glasses, but Zienna merely gaped at them. “What?” she asked.
Nicholas faced her, looking excited. “That was my real surprise. The news that Wendell has agreed to manage the new location.”
“Yep,” Wendell concurred.
Zienna didn’t get to say anything, because at that moment, Youssef arrived at their table carrying a platter of beef Bourgogne, a mix of sirloin and tenderloin tips roasted with onions, carrots, celery and mushrooms and served over a bed of garlic mashed potatoes.
“Enjoy,” he said, placing it before them.
Somehow, Zienna made it through dinner. It helped that the belly dancing show distracted her and prevented them from engaging in conversation during that time. But she hardly ate her dessert, brûlée royale, which she typically enjoyed.
Nicholas rubbed her leg. “You okay, babe? You’ve been a bit quiet.”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
A beat passed, then Wendell spoke. “I think I know what’s wrong.”
“You do?” Nicholas asked, sounding confused.
“Nick, there’s something I should tell you. We should tell you.”
Zienna’s heart spasmed. No! she thought. Please, no...
“We?” Nicholas asked. “As in you and Zienna?”
“Nicholas, let’s just call it a night,” Zienna suddenly said. “I know I wasn’t the best company this evening, but it’s just because I’m overtired.”
But Nicholas wasn’t looking at her. He was gazing at Wendell. “What is it, man?”
Now Wendell looked at Zienna. And to her horror, she saw resolve in his eyes.
“Do you want to tell him, Zienna, or shall I?”
6
“What’s this about?” Nicholas asked.
“Nothing,” Zienna lied.
“The cat’s pretty much out of the bag now,” Wendell said.
“One of you tell me.” Nicholas looked from his friend to her with curiosity. In an effort to imply that she had no idea what Wendell was going to say, Zienna shrugged. Then she tried, ever so subtly with a look, to give Wendell the hint that he should keep his big mouth shut.
“It’s been bugging me ever since I came back and learned that you and Zienna were an item,” Wendell said, not getting the point—but more likely, not caring. Why was he doing this to her?
“Now I’m really curious,” Nicholas said.
“I figured Zienna would have said something to you by now, but I’m guessing she didn’t. Otherwise, I’m sure you would have brought it up with me.”
Zienna wanted to jump across the table and claw Wendell’s eyes out. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand his motivation.
“Don’t