Chapter 24 It wasn't often I forgot plans. My schedule was meticulous. My father and I shared a calendar, so one of us was always home with the kids. Usually, it was me, since his social life was far more exciting. That was why, when I left my room, dressed and ready to meet Bea at the gallery, he knew exactly where I was going. Except, where he thought I was going wasn't the gallery. "Tell Sam hi for me," he said, rubbing his chin, silver brows furrowed. "Can't remember the last time I saw that kid. He should stop by, see the kids, have dinner with us. Tell him I said so." I tugged on my cuffs, distracted and eager to get out the door. "Remind me on Monday. I'll extend the invitation." "Why wait until Monday? Tell him tonight." I stopped in my tracks, turning toward him. "I'm not seeing Sam tonight." Something nudged at the back of my mind. A half-formed thought, a loose thread. My dad took out his phone, tapping the screen a few times. "Did the dinner meeting get canceled? It's still right here on the calendar." "Dinner meeting?" I took his phone from him, my stomach sinking as I read the bold letters. Dinner. Vocellis. Sam, Drew Epstein, Don Wilde, Minnie Santos. 8 p.m. Shit. "That's not where you're heading." Dad stepped back, giving me a long once-over. "You look good, champ. You have a date tonight?" "I do." I grimaced, my thoughts tangling fast. Canceling on Bea wasn't an option. Not after she'd rearranged her schedule for me. But Sam wouldn't be happy if I skipped the dinner, and he'd been unhappy with me a lot lately. My father squeezed my shoulder, bringing me out of my internal spiral. "You're losing the plot, Sal. Take a deep breath. We'll figure this out." Meeting his steady gaze, I pulled in a long breath and gradually let it out. This was familiar. My father had a knack for getting me to focus. Left to my own devices, I'd have gotten overwhelmed and shut down. "Okay." I twisted my ring, focusing on one thought at a time. "I'll have to figure out how to be in two places at once." He chuckled. "No chance of canceling the date?" I shook my head. That made him laugh a little harder. "Well, all right. I'm interested in hearing about the woman who's got you in your finest duds, but we'll talk about that later. Where are you taking her?" "Art gallery for Maria Petridis's opening. Then dinner, if she's up for it." "Got it." He nodded a few times. "You'll take her to the opening, then to this dinner with Sam. Text Sam. Tell him you'll be late. Of course, it won't be exactly what you had planned, but it'll be fine. Adjust your mindset so you can enjoy the night. Roll with it." Fine. Right. Not the private, romantic evening I had in my head, but I could roll with it. Bea hadn't let me pick her up, stating she lived only a few blocks from the gallery, and it would be silly to drive. That was technically true. But I suspected the real reason was caution. She didn't want to count on me. Not yet. Which was fair. I'd given her every reason to hesitate. But I wouldn't let her down again. She strode up to the gallery minutes after I arrived in heels that still boggled my mind. Her dress moved with her as she walked, flowing along her hips and thighs and hugging her curves from her waist to her breasts. She was beautiful, but it was her smile when she spotted me that stole my breath. Surprised at first, almost uncertain, but as she drew closer, it crackled with sparks. Bright and electric, like a live wire dancing on the ground, throwing heat and light with reckless abandon. I should have returned her smile. God knew the happiness bubbling inside me warranted one. But my brain had stalled. Input from outside, inside, all around me, surged forward at once. The gleam of her hair in the streetlight. A passing car in desperate need of a new muffler. The shape of her mouth when she said my name. The dress. The temperature difference between outside and the air conditioning escaping the building. Her perfume, faint yet distinct. The sharp clack of her heels on the sidewalk. It wasn't unpleasant. Just...too much. Being near her, my body registered pleasure and comfort, but my mind couldn't prioritize what to feel first. She deserved more than my silence. She deserved for me to tell her how beautiful she was and how happy I was to see her. But my brain was buffering, overloaded from too many commands at once. I reached for her hand, cradling it between mine. "Beatrice," I rasped. "Salvatore," she whispered, leaning into me. "It's okay. I feel it too." She might have been humoring me, but I was thankful for it regardless. She let me look at her, memorize her piece by piece. The moment my thoughts caught up, I hooked my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. "Can I kiss you?" I asked. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't." So would I. The second our lips connected, everything quieted. The street noise faded. The movement around us blurred into the background. Her mouth under mine was soft and certain, lips parting without a beat of hesitation. I kissed her with a familiarity I hadn't yet earned but felt down deep in my gut. And when she kissed me back-slow, deliberate, fingers curling into the front of my jacket-it made sense. We made sense. Together. When we finally pulled apart, the city was still there. The lights. The traffic. The hum of conversation outside the gallery doors. But she was the center of my focus. I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip. "I'd rather not go so many days without seeing you." She flashed me another electric smile. "It did seem like too many, didn't it?" She patted my chest. "You could have asked to see me sooner." I groaned, rolling my forehead along hers. "I will next time." I threaded my fingers with hers. "I have some news that's frustrating me." "Tell me." "I inadvertently double-booked myself. What do you think about joining me for dinner with Sam and a few industry people after the gallery? If you're uncomfortable, I understand, but I can't skip it. It's not what I had in mind for tonight-" She pressed a kiss to my chin. "It's fine. If you're okay with me going, I'd like to." I frowned. "The conversation will likely revolve around tech news and software updates-dry and fairly boring to someone not familiar with the topics." She arched a brow. "Are you trying to talk me out of agreeing?" "No. Absolutely not. Having you by my side will make the evening infinitely more bearable and a lot more interesting. I just want you to know what you're getting into." "Okay. I've been warned." She sighed, toying with a button on my shirt. "If boring dinners are part of being with you, I guess I'd better get used to it." My gut unfurled with relief. "I try to avoid them, but unfortunately, I can't say no to every one. Sam would riot." She let out a short laugh. "We can't have that." "No, I suppose we can't." I nodded toward the door. "Are you ready to go inside?" "I am. I can't wait to see the kind of art you're into. It's like...a peek inside your mind." I squeezed her hand, steady now. "That might be true," I said softly. "Just...don't judge me too harshly." She grinned up at me, eyes dancing with mischief. "No promises." Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!