Sophia
The next evening, I met up with Elise at our favorite dim sum restaurant to celebrate my new apartment. This was gonna work, even if I had to ass-kiss the landlord until my lips were chapped. At least Jack was willing to let Elise stay over.
I dug into my massive multipurpose bag that was function over form, carrying my laptop, shoes, and beauty essentials, and searched for a scrap of paper. I’d scribbled the reservation confirmation on it and shoved it in here, but now I couldn’t find it. The situation was made worse by the fact that I hadn’t cleaned out my bag in a week, and everything I owned was inside.
I glanced at the hostess, who was clad in a black dress and stylish glasses halfway down her nose. “I’m so sorry. I have the confirmation here somewhere.”
Nom Tea Parlor was the best dim sum in town. You booked reservations online for lunch and dinner or you didn’t get in. It was also expensive as all get-out. Moving in with Jack was a big deal for me, so I’d been skimping on other luxuries, like afternoon mochas, to celebrate the occasion. Which was also why I’d booked a table days ago. If only I could find the darn slip of paper with the confirmation code!
“Name?” the hostess asked.
I rattled off my name.
The hostess scrolled a computer screen then said, “I don’t see it here.”
Elise nudged me in the side with her elbow. “There’s a line behind us,” she said, wearing a moss-green lantern dress she’d picked up off Shein for about fifteen bucks.
Perspiration prickled beneath my arms as I dug around in my purse. “I know, I know.”
“Well, do something,” she said, “or we should leave. Someone just walked in, and you don’t want to see who it is.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I looked behind us, exactly what Elise had warned me not to do.
My chest constricted, closing off airflow.
“Paul just walked in,” she said needlessly, her wavy dark-brown hair partially blocking my view because Elise didn’t know personal space. But I didn’t need the full view.
Paul was making his way to the hostess, and he looked like a K-pop star, with his glossy black hair lightened to a reddish brown. He was wearing a black T-shirt that was tight on his biceps and slim at the waist. Knowing what he spent on clothing, the shirt alone must have cost as much as I earned in a day. More importantly, he was holding the hand of his new fiancée.
I’d been told his fiancée was exactly the nice Korean girl his mother had dreamed of for him. Apparently, she came from a wealthy family who was richer than Paul’s, and that was saying something. It was a wonder he ever dated me knowing I was making my way through graduate school on scholarships and student loans. Not exactly rich-girl material.
Paul’s family owned a popular café chain in town, but in graduate school we were all on a level playing field. I hadn’t wanted a boyfriend at the time; relentless financial stress will do that to you. But Paul brought me lattes before class, and even though I don’t drink lattes, I’d appreciated the effort.
Clearly, I’d been deeply deprived of male attention because there were plenty of other things I’d overlooked.
I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes, feeling my chest loosening. This was the best week. The very best week. I had my own space in a swanky apartment, and I was getting better sleep than I had in years. I would not let my ex’s presence ruin this day.
“Excuse me?” the hostess said, peering from above silver-framed glasses that matched her hair. “I can’t find your name, and if you don’t have your reservation number, I’ll have to take the next customer.”
The sound of someone clearing his throat came from behind, and I stiffly looked back.
Paul was standing right behind us now. Tension lined his eyes as he clenched his fiancée’s hand. “Sophia… Is there a problem?” He looked over his shoulder at the growing line. “Maybe you should step back and let someone else through.”
“You know her?” his fiancée murmured.
Shame swept through me, and I stepped aside in jerky movements, wishing to be smaller. I wasn’t with Paul anymore, yet somehow, I still managed to embarrass him.
I’d lost the reservation number. For most people that wasn’t the end of the world, but the truth was, I couldn’t afford this place. I’d wanted to live like the haves instead of the have-nots, even for an hour, and I’d just been bitch-slapped into reality courtesy of my ex, a guy I hadn’t seen in a year.
I looped my arm through Elise’s and moved to leave, when a man said, “Ming, she can have my reservation.”
My head swiveled in the direction of the deep, cultured voice a few feet behind Paul…to find Landlord Devil staring at his phone.
He glanced at the hostess. “A call just came in that I need to take.”
Landlord Devil placed the phone to his ear and turned his back to us.
“Of course, Mr. Burrows.” The hostess smiled and motioned me and Elise toward a pair of double doors and the restaurant that resided just beyond. “Right this way.”
I looked at Max, but he still had his back turned. Though I caught Paul giving Max a sidelong look, and his expression was annoyed.
Was Paul disappointed that Landlord Devil had rescued me like a suit-clad knight in shining armor?
Elise nudged me forward, and I followed the hostess numbly.
Max and I hadn’t made eye contact once, which led me to believe he hadn’t known it was me blocking the line. Just some random woman. And for a moment, I could see him in a different light—one less harsh. Maybe he wasn’t entirely awful. Maybe we’d just gotten off on the wrong foot.
Catching my stiff composure as we made our way through the restaurant, Elise said, “I think he’s in the other dining room.” At my confused expression, she added, “Paul.”
I rubbed my temples. “It’s fine. I was just… I haven’t seen Paul in a long time, and that was embarrassing as hell.”
“No shit. He didn’t even have the courtesy to say hello. Just get the fuck out of the way. But holy hell, the hot businessman? Yes, please! I’ll take some of that.” She waggled her eyebrows.
I stared in horror.
“What?”
“That businessman was—is—my landlord.”
Her nose crinkled. “Landlord Devil?”
“Correct.”
She looked toward the double doors that were now closed, and nearly ran into an older couple leaving the dining area.
“Watch where you’re going,” I mumbled.
The hostess stopped near a table and gestured for us to sit.
Elise leaned in and lowered her voice. “Well, he seemed okay. And he’s a freaking smoke-show, Soph. Why didn’t you tell me?” She pulled out her chair and sat.
Too many unsettling thoughts were running through my mind to respond to Elise’s question. I jerked out a chair and slumped into the seat. Maxwell Burrows was good-looking. Of course I’d noticed—in the split second before he criticized me the night we met. Then all pleasure at a handsome face had dissipated. But he hadn’t been an asshat just now, and I wasn’t sure what to think.
“He probably didn’t know it was me at the front of the line,” I finally said.
“Max is his name?” Elise’s mouth twisted and she shrugged. “Either way, more dim sum for us.” She clinked her water glass against mine, and I focused on the delicious menu instead of on the two men who’d reminded me of all the reasons I was cautious when it came to relationships.
