Chapter 56

Ava

That night, Chris took me on what was perhaps one of the best dates I had ever been on.

First, we went to one of the finest restaurants in the city. Chandeliers dripping with crystals hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting the entire establishment in a warm, golden, intimate sort of glow. Waiters in crisp black and white suits glided back and forth across the floor, carrying silver trays of expensive food and wine.

“Wow,” I breathed, trying to maintain a calm outward appearance as we stepped into the room—for the sake of not looking like a total rube and further perpetuating the stereotype of werewolves who had never seen the finer things in life before.

Chris chuckled beside me and looped his arm around my waist. “Like it?”

I nodded. “It seems so… expensive.”

“It is.”

As we were led to our table, I couldn’t seem to keep myself from gawking at the extravagance of it all. Lush floral arrangements adorned every available surface, their heady perfume overwhelming my senses.

However, I felt distinctly underdressed in my simple sundress amidst the sea of designer gowns and tailored suits. I carefully smoothed the front of my dress down, feeling as though every eye on me was judging me in some way or another.

“You look stunning,” Chris murmured in my ear, as if reading my mind. His lips brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “Don’t feel out of place here.”

I managed a tiny smile, allowing him to pull out my chair for me like a perfect gentleman. As we settled in, the waiter brought flutes of bubbly, golden champagne to our table without question.

“For the lady,” the waiter said, setting the flute down in front of me. Chris shot me a wink from across the table, and we clinked our glasses together. The champagne was sweet, but also just the right about of dry, and the bubbles tickled my nose as I sipped.

No sooner had the waiter departed than another man in a crisp black suit appeared at our table, offering us both a bow.

“Chris. It’s an honor,” the portly man gushed, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Your usual table, anything you desire—it’s on the house for you and your lady, of course.”

My brows shot upwards at the lavish display. Chris simply waved a dismissive hand, that infuriatingly charming smile playing on his lips.

As the maitre d’ scurried away, I leaned in closer, murmuring under my breath. “Seems a bit... excessive, no? All this just because you’re, well… you?”

Chris’s green-eyed gaze slid to mine, and he took another sip of his champagne. “That’s just how things are in this world, Ava. You get used to the fawning eventually.”

I pursed my lips, ducking my head to peruse the menu—if only to avoid his knowing look. For some reason, it didn’t sit right with me, this unabashed ego stroking. But I also couldn’t deny that it did feel good to be treated like a celebrity.

It wouldn’t hurt to allow myself to bask in it for just a little while, right?

The rest of our meal passed in a similar vein, with a dizzying parade of courses and the staff catering to our every whim. By the time the dessert plates had been cleared, I felt almost dizzy from the excess. Maybe it was too much after all.

Where was this food coming from, anyway? Certainly not local farmers; and I knew that the servers didn’t get paid a proper minimum wage, instead being expected to work mostly for tips, which very well may have been garnished by the establishment—an even higher likelihood since our entire meal was on the house.

As if sensing my discomfort, Chris reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “One more stop for the night?”

Mutely, I nodded, allowing him to lead me out of the restaurant and into the cool evening air. I drew it greedily into my lungs, letting it steady my champagne-induced haze.

Our next destination was a lively jazz club tucked into a back alley, the muffled sounds of a velvety saxophone spilling out onto the street. After finding our place in a dimly lit corner booth, we sipped on some delicious cocktails and watched as the jazz band played song after song with so much skill for their instruments that it was almost dizzying.

Once again, Chris’s mere presence secured us the finest table, our drinks regularly refreshed without so much as having to ask.

I tried not to stare too hard at the staff scrambling to fulfill our every whim—or consider how their meager wages might pay for our indulgences.

However, as the night wore on and the drinks flowed more freely, I found my initial reservations melting away.

It was easy to get swept up in the extravagant delights, to bask in the ego-stroking and admiration. Each time our server would appear with a freshly poured glass on the house, I would catch Chris’s gaze over the rim of my glass, his eyes sparking with approval at my uninhibited enjoyment.

Eventually, the beat of the music lured us out onto the tiny dance floor, where Chris pulled me close and swayed with me to the beat. My head swam, not only from the alcohol, but also from the smoky atmosphere, the lively jazz music, and most of all… the firm planes of Chris’s body against mine.

For a little while, everything else seemed to slip out of existence—as if the world had simply disappeared outside the confines of that small jazz club.

It was only when we finally made our way out of the club, flushed and breathless from dancing and laughing and drinking, that reality came crashing back down. It was late, and as I took one last glance at the weary staff through the window who were mutely clearing away empty glasses and wiping down tables, that that familiar pang of unease resurfaced in my chest.

“Hey,” Chris said, squeezing my shoulders lightly. “What’s going through that head of yours?”

I blinked, his deep voice pulling me out of my reverie.

“Sorry, I just... That was a lot.”

“A lot?” Chris cocked his head to the side. “Did you not enjoy it?”

I quickly shook my head. “No, no, it was wonderful. It’s just… Nevermind. You’re going to think I’m being nitpicky.”

“No such thing,” he replied coolly. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I drew in a deep breath before continuing. “It’s just that I can’t help but think about how we got all that for free. How does a place like that even stay in business if they just give everything away to certain people?”

A shadow flickered across Chris’s features before he pulled it back into an easy smile. “Ava, people don’t really think about that here. They’re just grateful for the perks and free things when they happen to come along.”

I couldn’t hide my frown and stopped in my tracks. “Yes, but if more people thought about the bigger picture, then maybe this place wouldn’t be such a… a mess.”

At my words, a few passersby shot me—and my glowing tattoo—annoyed looks. I could feel their gazes on me, judging me. I was the outsider, the haughty werewolf who looked down on the human world.

“Hey,” Chris said softly, taking my hand and pulling me along with him. “I understand your concerns, but maybe we could talk about it once we’re not at risk of being overheard.”

I nodded, my cheeks flushing red. The alcohol had made me lose my inhibitions, and I had spoken rudely.

“Come on,” Chris said then, pulling me further down the busy city street. “I have one last destination in mind tonight.”

After a brisk walk through the chilly night air, we finally made it to our destination. My breath caught in my throat.

We had arrived at a sculpture garden right in the middle of the city. Strategically placed lanterns cast everything in a warm glow, the flickering flames sending shadows dancing across the intricately carved stonework and lush greenery.

Chris led me along the winding pebbled paths, his hand never leaving mine. At every turn, we were met with another breathtaking sculpture—both realistic and abstract, a perfect melding of classical and contemporary.

Finally, we arrived in a secluded alcove that contained a beautiful statue of a man and a woman, their bodies intertwined in an almost dizzying manner. Beneath the statue was a stone bench with a plague, and Chris sat down and patted the spot next to him.

Once I settled down on the cool marble, he wrapped his arm around my hips and pulled me closer.

“Still think this place is nothing but a mess?” he asked, gesturing around us.