Page 23 of Brutal
Our server arrives. “Mr. Vexley, it’s wonderful to see you here. I’m Brian, and I’ll be taking care of you and your guest tonight. Would you care for a cocktail?”
I nod to Delaney.
“Just a glass of water for me, please.”
“Of course.” He gestures to me.
“Twelve-year Pappy’s. Double. Neat.”
“Right away.” Brian bows and leaves.
Delaney and I sit in silence for a moment.
It stretches between us, but it’s not empty silence. To the contrary, it’s full. Full and thick with the energy I already feel between us.
“Manhattan doesn’t seem like your scene,” I finally say.
She offers a small smile. “And what might be my scene?”
I lean in slightly. “Something quieter.”
“Less crowded?”
I tilt my head. “More thought-out.”
Something shifts in her eyes. “Meaning?”
“Someone like you chooses where she goes. You don’t follow the crowd.”
“And do you?”
I catch myself before I chuckle. The mere suggestion of me following anyone is laughable. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re comfortable in your own space.”
Interesting. She’s not wrong. What she doesn’t realize, though, is that I make every space my own.
Brian returns with my bourbon and Delaney’s water. “I understand you’ve already spoken to the sommelier about your wine selection and the chef about your meal.”
“That’s correct,” I say.
“Good. Then I’ll get everything started for you. Please let me know if you need anything else.” Another bow as he leaves.
Delaney reaches for her water, takes a small sip, sets it back down. “Do you always order for the people you dine with?”
I raise an eyebrow. “You disapprove?”
“I didn’t say that.” She takes another sip of water. “Do you spend most of your time in the city?”
“Most.”
“Not all?”
“No.”
“And when you’re not here?”
“I’m elsewhere.”
