Ruthless (The Calvettis of New York 2) - Page 6

I should be grateful that he’s slow. I’m good with this date lasting all weekend.

“I’m having a great time.” I grin. “I’m glad I took a chance on this blind date.”

I catch sight of a pretty redheaded woman approaching from the left. Her gaze is trained on Dale. A smile plays on her ruby red lips. It grows wider with each step she takes toward us.

She’s expertly navigating her way through the crowded restaurant as if it’s a runway and she’s a supermodel.

I can’t help but stare.

I’m not alone.

People sitting at the tables near us glance at her as she breezes past. Her low cut black dress is clinging to her body. The lace bra she’s wearing peeks out with every forward step she takes.

I wait for Dale to notice her, but he’s focused on me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her slowing as she nears us. She comes to a complete stop when she’s almost in Dale’s lap.

Her hand leaps to his shoulder, but her touch isn’t tentative. She runs her fingers over the fabric of his suit jacket until they leisurely tangle in the hair on the back of his head.

“Forgive me, lover,” she purrs. “I saw an old friend on my way to the ladies’ room. I had to stop to catch up with her.”

What the hell?

Her gaze slides from Dale to me before finally settling on the empty glass on the table in front of me. “Who are you and where’s the cosmo I ordered?”

Chapter 4

Bella

I skid my chair back so quickly that it bumps into a waitress.

The tray in her hand wobbles precariously close to the head of a man sitting directly behind me.

Dammit.

Not only am I completely humiliated, but I’m about to knock someone out cold.

“Look out,” I scream as I jump to my feet.

The man sitting behind me ducks just as the tray glides past his head. It doesn’t hit him, but a small silver spoon that tumbles from it bounces off his shoulder.

Everything else on the tray crashes to the floor.

Taking a step to the side, I reach for my purse. I slung it over the back of the chair I was sitting in. I tug on the strap so hard that the chair falls over at my feet.

Near silence settles over the restaurant.

I don’t look up because I know that every eye in the place is on me, including not-Dale and his girlfriend.

“Bella? Are you Bella?”

I nod softly before I turn and face the man asking the question.

He’s good-looking in an ordinary kind of way. His brown hair is cut short to his head. A five o’clock shadow peppers his jaw.

Concern knits his brow. His blue eyes rake me over from head-to-toe. “Tiffany told me I’d be having dinner with the most beautiful woman in the restaurant. She was right. I’m Dale Samuelson.”

Two waiters descend on us as they move to clear the broken plates and glasses.

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Calvettis of New York Romance
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