Once we arrive at the restaurant with one of those fancy, hard-to-pronounce-correctly names, I hand the keys to the skinny, young valet and walk around to open the passenger door but Mira is already out.

“How did you manage to make a reservation here so fast?” She gapes at me. “My mother had to be put on a wait-list for several days. Or wait…” I raise an eyebrow in amusement at the corner of her lips turning up in a small smile. “D-did you plan this??”

With a chuckle, I place my hand on the small of her back, my thumb tracing her exposed skin in small circles.

“My friend's dad has connections with the owner of this restaurant, so it was a favor.”

Mira glances up at me. “Oh? I wonder if he knows my mom…”

“I'd hope not.” If Chris’s dad does know that bitch from hell, then it's the end of the world.

We walk on the multi-colored stone path with tiny lights on both sides, illuminating the lines and dark colors with a warm glow. Chatter ensues from inside the well-lit restaurant as the doorman opes the door for us with a smile and a dip of his head. Soft jazz music plays in the background, bringing out the richness of this place as we sidestep several people waiting for their tables.

“Hi! Do you have a reservation?” the redhead woman at the counter asks with a bright smile. 

“Yes. It should be under Natalie Holt.”

She takes a few seconds to scroll through her pad as I look around the crowded restaurant, every single table occupied with people in their thousand dollar suits screaming luxury. Except for…

“Found you! Your table is right over there in the corner.” She points to the only available, secluded seating. I chuckle silently. Chris knew what he was doing.

“Thank you,” I say to her with a smile. Tightening my hand on Mira's I lead her to the table and pull out a chair for her before sitting down on mine.

Mira isn't nervous at all,looking around with that beaming face of hers and wandering eyes. It's so obvious she's been raised in a rich family from how this all seems normal to her.

Which is another reminder of who her mother is, but I push that thought far back in my mind. Not today. I won't let anything get in the way. It's just me and her, on a real date. And I've promised myself on the way here that I won't try to self-sabotage this time.

A waitress walks up to us, asking what kind of beverages we'd like. I order their best wine, to the protest of Mira but I don't care. I'll give her the best dinner, even if it means draining my pockets and delaying the chance of opening my own dance studio.

Mira deserves to be treated like a princess, and I have much to make up to her. A fancy dinner is only the start.

We talk about a lot of stuff as we both wait for the food and eat. The amount of food they served on the plates, fucking hell, it wouldn't even sustain a small chicken. But there's no denying the exquisite taste, and seeing Mira’s satisfaction is worth it.

Several couples are dancing as the song switches to one unrecognized but don't remember the name of, followed by Mira’s gasp.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” My eyes follow the direction of her gaze on the couple before returning to her face.

“Would you like to dance, fruit tart?” I ask with a smile.

She looks at me with a slightly surprised look. “Really?”

Standing up, I walk around the table and extend my hand toward her. “Really. Don't make me change my mind.”

Her face brightens as I lead her out on the dance floor and spin her round to face me. She giggles a little, the sound making my heart skip a beat. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I pull her close to me as she grasps my waist and puts her head against my shoulder, her soft hair tickling my cheek.

With the music flowing through the lavish restaurant and dancing her with Mira in my arms, it all feels just right. The world around us disappears, until it's only us on the floor. Warmth overflows my heart as she nuzzles deeper into my neck. This all feels perfect.

Too perfect.

No, stop Natalie, don't do this again.

“I've always imagined this scenario,” Mira mutters. “Dancing with someone to this song. I never would have thought that person would be someone like you.”

Raising an eyebrow, I look down at her as she meets my eyes. “Someone like me? You mean another girl?”

A tiny smile tugs at her lips. “Maybe… but also… with someone so… so, well, you know, someone who can have anyone in the world, and someone who… like, disliked me at the start and yet, here we are, you know?”

I lean forward until our lips are an inch away from each other, her warm breath fluttering over my skin with the softness of a butterfly.

“That's because you're special, Mira. You're too likable for anyone to hate you for a long time.” I tuck a loose hairstrand behind her ear, her breath shuddering at my touch.

I'm about to kiss her when she jumps back and squeaks, looking behind me.

I turn around, my heart pounding in my ears at expecting to see Mira’s mother or brother, but I can't find anyone suspicious.

“What is it, Mira?” I ask, stepping closer to her. “You look like you have seen a ghost.” Which is not an exaggeration with the way her eyes are wide with fright and her face whiter than snow.

“C-can we just get out of here, Nat? Please, I–I will wait for you outside.”

“Wait, why out–” but she's already fleeing toward the door. Fuck, what just happened? Did I fuck up again?

Once I quickly pay for the meal, the total amount giving me a mini heart attack, I rush outside to find Mira standing near the valet stand, her bare arms folded across her chest and her hands rubbing along them.

Taking off my jacket, I fling it over her shoulders to cover her up. She glances at me, her eyes wide with fright then relax when she sees it's me. Once the valet brings my car around, we climb in and drive out of the restaurant. Both of us are silent, with me trying to figure out what the fuck happened while Mira just sits there with her hands nervously fidgeting in her lap.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell happened back there?” I finally break the silence.

“Nat, can we talk when we're at the condo?”

“No, Mira. You're going to tell me what happened now. You can't just leave the restaurant without telling me shit.”

“Oh, like you always run away?”

Frowning, I glance at her for one second. “Excuse me?”

Mira bites her lip, almost ready to burst into tears. “I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean it like that, I'm just... Nat, watch out!”

I turn back to the road as a car barrels across the street in front of us. Mira's hand flies to my thigh and digs her nails into me so hard that pain shoots up and down my entire leg. That's definitely not how I wanted to be marked by her.

“Fuck!” I turn the wheel to the right, barely missing the honking vehicle by inches as I steer us around it in a half circle before getting back on the path to the condo.

I drive slowly, taking deep breaths to calm my rushing heart as Mira gasps and releases her death grip on my thigh.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry –”

“It's fine,” I reply flatly, refusing to look at her. Shifting my foot on the gas, I accelerate. I don't know what the fuck is going on, and apparently I can't even ask about it while driving without getting pummelled by another car, which I guess I wouldn't mind if Mira wasn't with me.

We finally reach the condo. Parking my car in my space, I turn off the engine and lean back against the seat.

“Let's go inside to talk.” Without waiting for Mira to respond, I walk out of the car and make my way through the near-empty lobby. I step inside the elevator and wait for Mira to catch up to me before letting the doors close.

The tension inside feels as if the air is being choked out of me. This is what I get for finally giving in to my feelings. One date, one fucking date, and Mira is fleeing out of the restaurant as if she's being chased by the Russian mob. I snort to myself at the thought. Just imagine if the latter was true, although I wouldn't be surprised if her mother has connections with them.

After all, that's the only way rich people can have money. Shady deals, shady people, money laundering, and so on.

But I know it wasn't because of that. It's because of me. What else. Who else.

As soon as the doors open, I step out, Mira following close behind. When we're both inside the condo, I make my way to the kitchen and find the bottle of scotch.

“Nat…” Mira says as I pour a little into a glass and down it in one swallow.

“The next words that come out of your mouth better explain why you ran away.”

She reaches me and stands a few feet away from me. “I–I didn't! At least, not from you!”

“Then from what?”

Her eyes dart across my face, her bottom lip trembling. “I saw my mother's friend. He was sitting there and… he saw us, Nat. Which means he'll tell her everything. About us. She'll kill me. She– she will take away everything from me. This condo, everything.”

Oh, fuck... I should have guessed that... It should have been obvious, and I had snapped at Mira for nothing. Fuck me, I'm such an idiot.

“Hey.” I set the glass down on the counter and step toward her. “It's going to be okay–”

“It's not going to be okay! What are you going to do? Your dream dance studio?”

“Fuck that dance studio. Besides, we'll think of something.”

“Like what?”

“Anna's lease is still good for another month. We can stay there, and during that time, we'll up with something. My stupid dream can wait.”

“It's not stupid!” Mira frowns.

I scoff. “Of course it's stupid! In this economy? With LA and–”

Without letting me finish, she wraps her arms around me and holds me tight. “Just stop, Nat. Your dream isn't stupid, and you'll get it.”

I press my lips on the top of her head. “Just as long as we're together, and you don't leave me, not when –”

“I won't,” she whispers, looking up at me with tears glistening in her eyes. She takes my hand and places my palm on her heart, beating rapidly against my touch. “If you promise to not run away when I need you the most. When I love you, a–and–”

I lean forward. “I promise, cupcake. You stole my heart, and I will let you keep it.”

Only if you don't let your fucking mother win.