Chapter 20: The Dinner Date
A deep, soul-weary exhaustion clung to Isadora, a heavy blanket woven from the day's events the frantic shopping, the venomous confrontation, the emotional whiplash. She barely managed to kick off her shoes before collapsing onto the bed, the plush duvet swallowing her whole. Sleep claimed her almost instantly, a merciful escape from the turmoil.
She was pulled from the depths of sleep by a firm, persistent knock at her door. Blinking, she fumbled for her phone, the screen's glow illuminating the dark room. 6:00 PM. She had slept for hours. A flicker of panic was quickly replaced by a dull ache behind her eyes. She padded to the door, assuming it was Jane summoning her for a solitary dinner.
She swung the door open, and her breath caught.
It was not Jane.
Sebastian stood in the hallway, his imposing frame filling the space. He was no longer in the casual robe from the morning but dressed in dark, impeccably tailored trousers and a simple, elegant shirt, the top button undone. The casual elegance was as disarming as his presence.
Isadora frowned, confusion knitting her brows together. "Evening, Mr. Walker."
A slow, genuine smile softened his features. "You can call me Sebastian."
She simply nodded, her mind struggling to catch up. "What can I do for you?"
His expression grew more serious, his gaze intent. "I would like to apologize," he said, his voice low and sincere. "For everything that has happened between us, from the beginning until now. The coldness, the assumptions… my part in it. Will you forgive me, Isa?"
He paused, his head tilting slightly. "Can I call you Isa?"
Isadora blinked, her heart performing a frantic, irregular rhythm against her ribs. The formal "Miss Anderson" was gone. This was different. This was… intimate. She managed a small, jerky nod. "Yes."
Sebastian's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Good. Then, how about we talk more over dinner?"
"I'll be down in ten minutes," she said automatically, turning to head back into her room to change.
"Isa," he called, stopping her. She turned back. "I'm asking you to eat with me outside."
The clarification hung in the air. Isadora froze, then felt a scalding heat rush from her chest to her hairline. She instinctively brought her hands to her cheeks, as if to hide the blush. "Like… dinner? At a restaurant? With you?"
Sebastian's smile returned, wider this time, deeply amused by her flustered reaction. "Yes, Isa. Dinner at a restaurant. So, please, go get ready. We can leave when you're done." With a final, unreadable look, he turned and walked down the hallway, leaving a stunned and thoroughly flushed Isadora leaning against her doorframe.
She retreated into her room, the door clicking shut with a soft finality. Her mind was a whirlwind. A public dinner? With him? A nervous excitement began to mix with her confusion. She headed to the bathroom and turned on the shower, the steam quickly fogging the mirrors. She reached for one of the new products from GLAM, a body wash in an elegant bottle. The scent that filled the shower was divine a sophisticated blend of jasmine and sandalwood. She lingered under the hot spray, the luxurious feel and smell a small, tangible piece of her new, bewildering life.
"I can't believe a body wash can smell this good," she murmured to herself, a genuine smile touching her lips for the first time that day. "Wow, I don't think I even need perfume. I have to get some for Lena; she has to try this."
After a long, revitalizing shower, she wrapped herself in a plush robe and faced the aftermath of her retail rebellion the mountain of shopping bags still scattered across the room. "I really have to sort this out later," she sighed, but the thought was fleeting, quickly replaced by the pounding of her heart. Dinner. With Sebastian.
She dropped the robe and stood in her bra and panties before the piles of new clothes, searching for the right dress. Another knock came at the door.
"Come in!" she called, not turning around, one hand rifling through a bag as the other held up a simple, elegant black dress against her body. "Hi, Jane, what do you think? Should I wear this one?"
The door opened. But the voice that answered was not Jane's.
"It's a beautiful dress," a deep, masculine voice said. "I think you should wear it."
Isadora whirled around, the dress clutched to her chest like a shield. Sebastian stood just inside the door, his eyes wide for a fraction of a second before his usual composure slammed back into place. But he had seen the smooth line of her back, the curve of her hips in the simple lace panties, the swell of her breasts above her bra.
A wave of mortification so intense it felt like a physical blow washed over her. Her face burned crimson.
Sebastian cleared his throat, the sound rough. "I'll be waiting downstairs." He retreated, closing the door softly behind him. Alone in the hallway, he allowed himself a slow, deep breath, a faint smile playing on his lips before he descended the stairs.
On the other side of the door, Isadora slid to the floor, the dress still pressed against her flaming face. "Oh, my god," she whispered into the fabric. After a moment of pure panic, she scrambled to her feet. He's waiting. I can't back out now.
She dressed with frantic speed in the simple black dress. It was plain but perfectly cut, hugging her figure without being overt. She added a delicate heart-shaped necklace and matching earrings, slipped her feet into black heels, and grabbed a small clutch. Leaving her hair down to cascade over her still-hot shoulders, she took one last look in the mirror. Presentable. Just incredibly embarrassed.
She walked downstairs, her heels clicking softly on the marble. Sebastian was waiting at the bottom, his expression neutral. He offered his arm, a formal, old-world gesture that felt both strange and thrilling. She took it lightly, her fingers barely resting on his sleeve.
He led her to the car, opening the rear door for her. The drive was steeped in a thick, uncomfortable silence. Isadora stared resolutely out the window, hyper-aware of his presence beside her. Sebastian watched her profile, the tense line of her jaw, the way her fingers twisted together in her lap.
He decided to break the silence. "Isa," he said, his voice calm in the quiet car. "You can ask me anything, and I will tell you. Let's get to know each other, shall we?"