Amazing couldn't describe the restaurant. The parking lot teemed with expensive cars. I spotted a couple of Porsches, a brand-new Audi, and even a bright red Ferrari. I felt incredibly nervous about the type of people who would be inside. They belonged in a whole different world to me and I knew I would stand out like a sore thumb.

"Don't be nervous," Marcus said, brushing a hand over mine. "It's not as scary as you think."

"You're used to it," I said, giggling. "This isn't my normal scene."

"It is now."

He got out of the car and opened my door, a habit I could gladly become accustomed to. Fresh sea air breezed across my skin and I took a deep breath of the invigorating coolness. The restaurant stood proud on the cliff edge, its chic black and white theme classy but modern.

Marcus took my hand as he led us towards the entrance. The lighting inside had been set low and warm, the perfect ambience for romance. The tables were dark wood with matching chairs, everything gleaming from the cutlery to the waiter's shoes.

Opening the door for me, Marcus gestured for me to step inside. My heart pounding, I waited for everyone to point and stare at the obvious outsider, but no one did. Marcus headed straight for the tall brunette who appeared to be the maître d. Stood behind a dark wooden stand with a large open book on it, she flashed Marcus a dazzling smile and asked for the reservation name.

"Davenport," he said.

Something flickered in her eyes and she seemed to jump into urgency mode. "Of course." She looked around and caught the eye of a young Latino waiter. Clicking her fingers, she said, "Phillipe, now."

Phillipe hurried over to us and promptly showed us to our table, a private window setting, giving a glorious view of the sea outside. Marcus held my chair out for me, gently pushing me in as I took my seat. Hungry, I eagerly took the menu from the waiter and scanned through the huge list as quickly as I could.

I'd barely gotten through half of the appetisers before a silky female voice said, "Marcus?"

I looked up and almost choked on my own breath. A woman I can only describe as some sort of supermodel, strode towards us from a few tables over. Long blonde hair fell to her tiny waist in perfectly straight streams of sunshine. Bright blue eyes glittered like two gems and her bronzed skin gleamed under the low lighting. Her gold dress clung to her slim figure like a second skin, even hugging her ankles.

"Selina?" Marcus said, turning in his seat. He stood up and held his arms out. "You look fantastic."

Selina embraced him fully, running her hands up and down his back with her eyes closed in pleasure. In that one second, jealousy sparked inside me instantly.

Marcus stepped back and held her at arm's length. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for work," she said, giving him a sly wink. "Why are you here?" Her eyes fell to the table and then scanned over me. "Oh, I see."

I raised my eyebrows and chewed on my tongue to stop myself from saying something I really shouldn't in a place like this. If I would ever master the filter on my mouth, now would be the time.

"Selina, this is Caitlyn. Caitlyn, this is Selina," Marcus said, introducing us.

I smiled at her, trying my best to quash the ugly green monster rising inside me. Selina flashed me a cool smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. She didn't like me, that radiated from her in waves.

"Hi," she said coolly.

"Nice to meet you," I replied, standing up and offering her my hand.

She stepped forwards and grasped my hand, her long slender fingers curling around my hand with such grace. Her nails were perfectly manicured, just as I expected. As our skin touched, a sharp sting of static electricity shot between us, jumping us apart instantly.

"You too," she said, shaking her hand by her side. She curled and uncurled her fingers, giving me a funny look, like I'd done that to her on purpose. Turning her focus back to Marcus, she said, "What have you been doing since I saw you last?"

"Oh, you know, this and that. The usual." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and then cleared his throat. "What have you been doing? It's been so long."

I frowned. What was going on here? They were speaking in code, one I clearly didn't understand.

Selina responded to Marcus' question with such enthusiasm, it made me feel ill. I sat back down and rolled my eyes, letting her rattle on about her latest adventures. I pulled my phone from my bag and clicked on Facebook, intent on amusing myself whilst some stunning beauty entertained my boyfriend for the next few minutes.

I scanned through my newsfeed, bored within thirty seconds of cat memes, stupid prank videos, and save the world preaching posts. I sighed and just as I went to log off, a chat head popped up with Luke's profile picture.

Luke: Hey *waves* isn't it your hot date tonight?

Me: Yep, currently on it

Luke: Going well then if you're on here lol

Me: Hot blonde + Man = Distracted Boyfriend

Luke: *shocked face* no way, really?

I smirked and decided to show him the truth of my current reality. I quickly put my phone on silent, then propped my elbows up on the table, my phone still in my hands. It gave me the perfect angle to take a picture of them both engaged in their deep conversation.

Me: *sent a photo*

Luke: ...wow, ok. I'm sorry, Caitlyn

Me: The 'wow' didn't really help matters lol

Luke: Lmao I didn't mean it like that. She's not my type, far too high maintenance

Me: You still said wow

Luke: To the situation, Cat, not her lol

Me: Lol I wasn't born yesterday

Luke: I can guarantee you she doesn't always look like that. It's like the whole bra thing

Me: Bra thing? You've lost me?

Luke: *laughing emoji* When you meet a woman with a huge chest but then you get her home, take her bra off, and realise it was all padding and she's as flat as an ironing board

I struggled not to burst out laughing. What a comparison.

Me: PMSL I can't say I've ever taken a woman home and removed her bra *laughing emoji* that's a really bizarre analogy but I see your point

Luke: Glad to be of service

I giggled. He was trying to make me feel better, I knew that.

Me: Thank you *heart*

Luke: If you need rescuing, just say and I'll be there

Me: He's got 2 minutes, then I'm walking

Luke: You show him *strong arm*

Me: *angry face* *fist*

Luke: *laughing emoji*

"Hey, sweetheart," Marcus said, sliding back into his seat. "I'm so sorry about that."

I sighed and quickly typed out a message to Luke – He's returned. I put my phone down and looked up at Marcus. "Sure."

He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side. "Are you mad at me?"

I frowned. "No," I said, picking up the menu. "I mean how could I be mad at you for talking to the hot blonde who was rude to me? Not at all."

He flashed me a cheesy grin. "You're jealous."

My mouth dropped wide open. "I am not."

He reached over and wrapped his hand around mine. "Caitlyn, you have nothing to worry about with Selina. We're nothing more than old friends."

I snorted. "So you've never slept with her then?"

He faltered for a brief second. "I would be lying if I said no."

"Thought as much."

It suddenly felt like my prom all over again, where my boyfriend chose the hot blonde over me. What was it with blondes that made all the men go crazy?

"Caitlyn," he said, chuckling. "You really don't need to worry. I would never be disloyal to you."

I nodded. "Ok."

"Cat, come on. I'm being serious. I'm not made that way."

"I said ok."

He smirked. "You're cute when you're jealous."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Shall I introduce you to my ex, tell him he looks fantastic, let him dismiss you, talk to him for several minutes, and then see how you react?"

His face darkened. His jaw set in a hard line and he took his hand back from mine. "Fair point. Not exactly fighting fair but you made your point."

"Not fighting fair? I believe in if it's good enough for you then it's good enough for me."

He broke out into a broad smile. "I've never met someone so young with so much...spirit. It's highly entertaining and also quite charming, in an odd sense of the word. You are going to be quite a handful as you grow older."

I frowned. "As I 'grow older'? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Excuse me, Sir?"

I startled as I realised the waiter was back at our table, this time holding a metal bucket with a bottle of something very expensive looking in it.

"Yes?" Marcus said.

"The lady in the gold dress from table five sent this over to you. She said to give you her kindest regards."

"Thank you," Marcus said, motioning for him to set it down.

The waiter placed it gently on the table then hurried away with a quick glance at me. He no doubt expected me to react badly.

I sighed and raised an eyebrow at Marcus. "Really?"

He pulled the bottle out of the bucket, looked at the label, and then laughed. "Cheval Blanc, nineteen-forty-seven."

Marcus turned around in his seat and held the bottle up over his head, acknowledging Selina who watched us intently from her table. She smiled at him, winked, and then returned her attention to her male companion.

"Some sort of private joke?" I asked, curious what the gesture meant.

"Kind of," he said. "The last time we saw each other, I had several bottles of this in my basement. Selina asked for one, of which I told her no. She came back to my house whilst I was out and stole it anyway. I guess this is her repaying me, although I had no intention of drinking mine, of course."

"Of course," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "I mean, who would buy alcohol and drink it?"

He shook his head from side to side, chuckling. "You have to really appreciate vintage wine to understand the value of keeping it rather than drinking it."

"I'll take you word for it." I motioned towards the bottle of wine. "Are you going to let me taste it?"

He widened his eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gripped the bottle in his hands, desperate to keep hold of it.

"I'm joking," I said, giggling. "I can see it's like a child to you. I won't make you open it."

He let out a sigh of relief and placed it back in the bucket. "I still have an empty hole in my racking where this once sat."

"Not that exact one, surely?"

He hesitated for a brief moment then gave me half a smile. "Well no, of course not."

I had a feeling he was holding something back, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly. I decided to let it drop. The evening had been marred somewhat already and I didn't want to make it worse just for the sake of a stupid bottle of wine.

"Are we having starters?" I asked, looking down at my menu again.

"Whatever you want. Is there something you fancy from the starters?"

I glanced down the list, my eyes immediately glued to the word 'prawns'. My mouth started salivating just at the thought.

"Maybe," I said.

"Then order it."

I pointed to the menu and said, "There's no prices here. That's like when you see a horse for sale and it says 'price on application'. Basically, it's ridiculously overpriced."

He grinned at me. "A horse?"

I nodded. "Yes. Once you get into the realms of Prix St George level dressage horses, the prices are mostly 'POA'."

"I know," he said. "I'm not unfamiliar with the equine industry. I just didn't expect you to compare the menu lacking prices to the lack of prices on horses." He started chuckling as he looked down the list of foods available.

"I'm glad I amuse you," I said, a smile tweaking at my lips.

We fell into silence as we decided what to eat. I settled on some posh sounding grilled king prawns to start and lobster for my main. Seafood I could never get enough of. The waiter came over and took our orders. Marcus decided to eat the same as me, his sapphire eyes twinkling with mischief as he told the waiter two of the same.

"You like seafood too?" I asked.

"I usually have it for starters, then red meat for mains. I'm intrigued how it follows to have both courses entirely seafood."

"Is this where you tell me that you have to have the right wine to go with the right meat?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "Technically, yes." He glanced sideways at his precious bottle of wine. "Actually, that wine there would be a perfect compliment."

I raised my eyebrows. "The wine that's still got an empty place in your wine cellar?"

He nodded. "I've been missing it all this time anyway. Never thought I'd get it back."

He lifted it from the bucket and before I could protest further, unwrapped it, and pulled the cork out like it hadn't even been there. Pouring the rich red liquid into my glass, he filled it before then filling his own.

"Enjoy," he said, lifting his glass.

I picked my glass up and smiled at him before taking my first sip of expensive vintage wine. The fruity flavour exploded over my tongue instantly. As I swallowed the thick rich liquid, spices, and I swear an earthy, leathery taste, chased down my throat.

"Wow," I said. "This is...intense."

Marcus sipped at his and then put the glass down. "The year this was made, was quite a year. It was intensely hot, over thirty-five degrees, and everyone expected the harvest to be an absolute disaster. Grapes were shrivelling on the vines and in September, harvest time, the heat was blistering. However, Cheval avoided the damaging effects of the heat purely down to its positioning—on a gravel bank to the right of the Dordogne, which made it cooler than other vineyards. Whilst other growers were fighting to get hold of ice to throw in their vats to cool the wine, Cheval left theirs alone, which resulted in this intense vintage at fourteen-point-four percent alcohol." He took another sip and closed his eyes. "It's almost like port. Absolutely delicious."

I raised my eyebrows and smiled at him. "You really know your wine, don't you?"

He opened his eyes, vibrant and full of vigour. "You could say."

"You talk about it like you were there," I said, thinking over the history of the wine and the way he told it.

"I've spoken to a lot of people who are familiar with its origins," he replied, very quickly.

The waiter came over then with our drool worthy starters, halting the wine orientated conversation. I wasn't going to say anything to him but his strange behaviour this evening hadn't been missed.

Thankfully, the rest of the evening went without a hitch and we managed to enjoy our food and the entire bottle of wine. Marcus settled the bill, not letting me look at the prices which in one way made me feel relieved, but in another made me anxious about just how expensive the meal had been.

Drinking half a bottle of wine had definitely taken its toll on me. It would be fair to say I was more than a little tipsy. I couldn't help but think about my last night with my mum. Marcus slid his arm around my waist and helped me out of the restaurant. The fresh air hit me like a bulldozer, making my head spin even more.

However, stepping outside brought its own bout of problems. Marcus pulled his car keys out of his pocket and a dawning realisation hit me.

"You can't drive," I said. "We've just shared a three-litre bottle of wine!"

He chuckled. "Caitlyn, I'm fine. Trust me."

"No," I replied, shaking my head. I lunged at his hand, trying to grab his keys. "No way. Just because you feel fine, doesn't mean you are fine. There's no way you're driving. We need to call a taxi."

He effortlessly moved his hand out of my reach. "Caitlyn, I'm not leaving my car here overnight."

"You should have thought about that before you cracked open that bottle of wine."

"I'm ok, Caitlyn, trust me. I won't even measure on a breathalyser."

I laughed. "In what world could anybody drink a litre and a half of wine and not have any measure of alcohol in their system?" I shook my head. "Do you think you're Superman or something?"

He grinned at me. "No. Batman."

I couldn't help but giggle. "Marcus, let's just call a taxi. Please?"

"Will you just trust me?"

I shook my head. "I'm not going to willingly get into a car with someone who is drunk. I don't want to die and neither do I want to be a part of any accident that involves the death of someone else."

He sighed. "Nobody is going to die, Caitlyn."

The fact he didn't have a problem with drink driving became a serious turn-off for me. How could he even begin to justify his actions here? I couldn't understand it. Everything else about him was so...perfect, this just didn't make sense.

"You know what?" I said, pulling out my phone. "If you want to drive, that's ok, but I'm going to find my own way home."

"Caitlyn," he said, putting his hand on my phone screen. "Don't do that. I'll call us a taxi, ok?"

I nodded. "Thank you."

Even though my world spun, and my body tingled from the sheer amount of wine I'd consumed, I had enough mind to consider the possibility that maybe my dad had been wrong about this guy all along.