First Flyght – Chapter 18

I figured a night out on the town, wearing one of the elegant dresses Marcelo picked out for me, my new shoes, and a new man on my arm would brighten my spirits. This neo-Mediterranean cuisine place is the hottest ticket in town, and so far from the real Mediterranean that it’s chic again. No protein printers here. All of their meat is hand-raised, and all of their vegetables are grown locally. I know because one of their hydroponics engineers was in my graduating class. Yes, I do know people in the right places.

But nothing can fix the man sitting next to me. Nothing.

“Did you know I used to date Zoe Cannon?”

I gulp at the rosé wine in my glass and signal the waiter to come back and fill it up. Devos Tite, my date, smiles what he thinks is his debonair grin, but only reminds me of a lecherous old man looking for a hot date. He may be beautiful with his full head of hair, glowing tan, and bright white teeth, but he hasn’t stopped talking about himself since we started this nauseating dinner one hour ago.

The longest hour of my life.

“She was a real piece of work,” he drones on, gossiping about Zoe Cannon, a cinema celebrity from Sonoma. “The woman never slept. She ran on amphetamines, day in day out.” He leans in, and I shrink away before I realize I’m cringing. “Anxiety attacks,” he whispers. “The only way she stopped it was with non-stop sex —”

“Whoa.” I snap up a hand to stop him, and he grins, trying to play the bad boy card with me. “You can stop right there, thank you very much.”

The waiter returns to our table with our bottle of wine. He tries to pour a respectable amount in my glass and leave.

“Wait! Fill it up.” He looks me dead in the eyes, knowing I am already three glasses into the bottle. “Fill. It. Up. Please.” I force a smile, and the waiter is smarter than my own date, filling it up without me having to ask again.

Devos grins and nods. “I like a woman who can drink.”

Aw, damn. He’s going to ruin my wine, too?

I clear my throat as the waiter delivers the main course. “Tell me more about your business. Marcelo told me you work for a resort on Laguna?”

My stomach grumbles as I eye the wine-braised lamb shank, roasted new potatoes and carrots, and a leafy green salad with almonds. I’m going to eat every last bite of this meal and get dessert too. I don’t want the money I spend on this awful date to go to waste.

Devos waits while his own meal, a dish of salad topped with steamed vegetables and lemon, is placed before him. “I’m the director of public relations for Île de Mer Bleue. I’ve been with them for five years.”

“Île de Mer Bleue is French, right?”

He shrugs. “It’s just a name.”

“Do you speak French? I’ve heard there are pockets of Francophones on Sonoma.” This is something of interest to me. I don’t speak French, but I thought I should learn if I want to do business with the wineries on Sonoma. A skill like this could be used to my advantage.

“Me? Speak French? What would be the point? I have a staff to do translations. I only speak English.”

Well, that’s disappointing, just like the rest of him.

Devos raises his eyebrows at my meal as I lean over it to inhale the spices. Mmmm. “Do you have some of those Adonis weight-losing nanites? The ones Athens Industries keep advertising everywhere? I heard they’re expensive, and two people have been eaten alive by theirs when they malfunctioned.”

I pause as I let my fork and knife hover over the lamb shank. Devos’s own meal is paltry compared to mine, and with his sleek figure and emphasis on all the famous people he’s dated, I get the feeling he may be a bit, just a bit, vain.

But, I suppose vanity is not the worst trait ever…

“Anyway, if you don’t have the nanites, you should be more careful about what you eat. It’s improper for a woman to eat more than her date.”

I sink my fork and knife deep into the lamb shank and hack off a large portion. Raising the piece to my lips, I let the wine sauce drip to my plate as I smile at it first, then devour it. Devos licks his lips.

“Mmmm, this is delicious.” I hold my hand over my mouth as I chew, a delicate gesture I learned from my mother. “I’m sorry. Were you saying something?”

A party of five or six people from across the room laughs at their own conversation, and the happy sounds make me smile again, though I wish I were eating with them instead.

“I was saying that it’s improper.” Devos is delicately slicing his steamed vegetables and dipping them in a citrus sauce. “I’ve been reading up on 20th century Earth etiquette and the proper place of women in society.”

I must have slipped back in time. Where am I again? My hearing rings as I spear a baby potato, drag it through the wine sauce, and pop it in my mouth.

“Proper place in society?” Tell me more, fucker. I want to hear all about your antiquated and backwards thoughts.

He watches me as I slice into more of the lamb shank. I rarely eat real meat, but I’ll be damned if I don’t eat every morsel of this meal, just to spite him.

“Society has gone too far to make up for the Vir Gene. Men should be choosing women, not the other way around. Women have… too much power.”

Okay, I’m done with this guy.

I ignore him and continue to eat everything on my plate as he drones on and on about how women have ruined the power balance of the Duo Systems, how unfair it is that only women can own land in the Brazilianos System and Laguna, and how the only things they’re good for is to bear children…

“And raise those children too. Men raising children is unnatural.” He looks across the table as I mop up the sauce from my meal with a piece of flatbread. “I hope I’m not offending you. I’ve found it’s best to be honest and open with a woman on the first date.”

Offended? Me?

To my core.

The only thing left to do is get dessert, but I don’t think I could stand another five minutes with this neanderthal. Besides, I’ve polished off all the wine and don’t want to buy an additional bottle.

He leans over the table to get a better look at my plate.

“You ate all that? You should really slow down.” He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. “A full stomach will get in the way of more intimate time later.”

Marcelo, you are fired.

“Did you have something in mind?” I ask, lifting the napkin from my lap to my lips.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card for a nearby love hotel. How prepared of him.

“I happen to know the owner at this little place. I have the ocean suite booked for the night.”

I set the napkin down on the table.

“Or perhaps, you’d prefer a suite with… ropes? I could oblige any fantasy you may have. You’re tall so I could stretch you across half the room.”

Even though I’ve said a total of maybe twenty words this entire dinner, somehow I’m still desirable to this walking dildo. Wanna bet he actually hasn’t been laid in at least a year? There’s no way Zoe Cannon touched this guy. She has better taste than that.

“I think all those fantasies are in that pretty little head of yours. I’m going to use the ladies’ room,” I say, standing up. “Why don’t you cool it here for a bit? And I want you to think more about your treatment of women who take you out to five-star restaurants and listen to your insane ideas of how society should function.”

I walk off, letting my strides be long and revealing my leg in the high slit of my black dress. The heels are a show-stopper, and several men turn their heads to watch me walk away. I’ve never had a very high opinion of myself, but I am way too good for this asshole. I’m sure there are other men here who would’ve been a better choice.

In the toilet stall of the bathroom, I lean against the wall and bide my time. There’s no way in hell I’m going back to that table. He can sit there forever and wonder if I’m ever coming back, thinking about his place in the universe.

Ugh, I hate dating. Why did I agree to this nonsense?

Fucking Tomu. I’m going to pull his fingernails off one by one if I ever find him.

And Marcelo? He’s going to get an earful from me when I return to the ship. How could he ever think I’d date a guy like Devos? I guess those lists he wanted were more important than I gave him credit for.

Out in the sitting area of the restroom, I sigh as I take a spot at the mirror and touch up my makeup. I’m full of good food and wine, and I’m ready to walk out of this place. But it’s a long way on public transit to the spaceport and my shuttle to the Amagi. I might as well look good on the way home.

The woman next to me catches sight of my shoes and gasps.

“Gorgeous shoes! Bomba-Farias, no?”

I smile as I nod. “Yes, and thank you. I love them.” Uh, oh. My speech is a little slurred. I should’ve gone easier on the wine.

She sighs as she tosses her lipstick back in her tiny purse. “Good shoes are better than sex, especially with these losers here tonight.”

She winks as she heads off, her blonde curls blurring her exit.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

I check my wristlet, access my bill for the meals and wine, and pay for everything. If I do it now, they’ll be cleaning my date out of the table within fifteen minutes. Time to make my escape.

I push through the restroom door, ready to sneak away, and Ms. Blonde Curls is still in the darkened, ambient-lit hallway whispering with a man I have to look at twice.

“Vivian, I thought that was you.”

The alcohol takes over, I lose my balance on my high heels, twist to the right, and almost crash straight into Ms. Blonde Curls.

“Oooh!” she cries, snapping her hands out and catching me before I plant my face directly into her shoulder. “I’ve got you!”

“Vivian, are you okay?” Yes, that’s concern I hear in his voice.

I want to die.

Twice in one day that Ken Mata gets to see me be a clumsy idiot.

The woman rights me and picks up my bag that shot straight into the wall. “Looks like you need to get used to those heels.”

Thank God for kind people. I avert my eyes from Ken and bow to the woman.

“Thanks for catching me. Sorry.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Mata,” she says, bowing and backing away. She seems disappointed but leaves.

“Same,” he replies, and when she’s out of earshot, he whispers, “I forgot her name immediately. I hate when that happens.”

I laugh, turning my back to the main dining room, hoping to hide from Devos if he comes this way. “We were both crap at remembering names.”

“Some things never change.”

I force myself to look him in the eyes, and the rush of embarrassment from this morning comes crashing over me. Though he’s less angry than before, his eyes betray his amusement at my expense.

I back away a step.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, slowing my speech down and hoping to keep the slurring at bay.

He shrugs. “Business meeting. Lawyers, investors, that type of thing. They’re a rowdy bunch though when you fill them with wine and cheese.”

He must have been at the table that was laughing and having a great time.

I want to compliment him on his suit, his tie, his hair, his fine-looking ass… I really should’ve dated a lot of other men after him.

It would’ve made him easier to forget.

“Well, I’d love to stay and continue to make a fool of myself, but I have to hightail it out of here before my date realizes I’m not coming back.”

He pops in surprise. “Dining and ditching? That’s unlike you, Vivian.”

“I didn’t ditch on the bill. Just the date.” An important distinction. I would never short someone the money they deserved unless my life was in danger or something. I can be devious when it’s called for, but I’m too honest with money.

Money, money, money.

My whole life revolves around money.

“He must be a winner.” Ken laughs lightly, and irritation grows in my chest. Standing around and joking about my poor choice in men with my famous ex-boyfriend is the last thing I need today.

“I’m sure I’m keeping you from your guests.” I step back again, eager to escape and forget this mess of an evening.

“Wait, Viv.” He reaches out for me, and my traitorous body stops and lets him touch me. “I’ll help you get away.”

His warm fingers grasp my arm, a light touch. Familiar. “This way. We’ll take the stairs and then the elevator.”

Panic edges across my alcohol buzz.

No, don’t do this, Vivian. Don’t torture yourself. Leave now. Leave this all far behind.

But his charming smile, the one that used to hover over me in bed, is hard to resist. He’s allowing me to make up for my horrible intrusion this morning.

Should I take it?

Or should I run and forget this ever happened?

“We still have a long way to go…” Skylar’s words echo in my head. Whatever I do, I have to think of my crew now, not just me.

Alone Vivian would save herself and decline.

Captain Vivian, though…

I nod, and he smiles, running his hand down my arm, grasping my hand, and pulling me towards the stairwell.