Chapter 2

I pushed open the heavy oak door of the steakhouse. The air was thick with the smell of grilled meat and expensive perfume. I scanned the room, my eyes searching for the man my mother had described.

She had shown me a picture of Ethan Lester. In it, he was wearing a crisp suit, his hair perfectly combed, a typical rich kid from the country club.

But the man waiting at the corner table looked nothing like that photo. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that showed off arms covered in tattoos. His hair was a little messy, and he had a rugged, blue-collar look. He looked more like a contractor than the heir to a construction empire.

I recognized him instantly. This was the real Ethan Lester. The photo was a lie, probably something his parents used for formal events.

Just as I started walking towards him, my phone buzzed. It was Molly.

Hey Gabi! Heard you' re on a big date! Let me come help you screen him!

I ignored the text.

I walked to the table and smiled at Ethan. "Ethan? I'm Gabrielle Johns."

He looked up, a little surprised, but stood up politely. "Gabrielle. Nice to meet you."

"You too," I said, my voice bright and enthusiastic. "Listen, I know we just met, but I'm not really a steakhouse person. I heard there's a great band playing downtown. How about we get out of here? My treat."

He looked intrigued, a slow smile spreading across his face. "A spontaneous adventure? I like your style."

He grabbed his leather jacket. As we walked out, I discreetly pulled a hundred-dollar bill from my purse and pressed it into the hand of a passing waiter.

"A girl is going to come in here looking for me," I whispered. "Tell her my date and I had a huge fight and we both stormed out separately. Can you do that?"

The waiter's eyes widened at the bill, and he nodded quickly. "Of course, ma'am."

We stepped out into the cool night air. As Ethan' s truck pulled away from the curb, I looked back. I saw Molly rushing into the steakhouse, a look of greedy excitement on her face.

A moment later, I saw her through the window, her expression twisting from confusion to pure rage.

My phone started blowing up. A stream of angry texts from Molly.

Where are you??

What happened??

The waiter said you guys fought! Did you screw it up already?!

GABRIELLE ANSWER ME!

I silenced my phone. Then, it rang again. This time, the caller ID showed "Mom."

I let it ring.