In Love With Mr. Billionaire - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

The drive to wherever he was taking me was in silence. Aaron drove through the heavy traffic while I looked out of the window at the colorful lights surrounding the streets. There were times when I felt him staring at me, but when I did look at him, his eyes were on the road ahead.
This was completely new for me. I had never been on a date before. For most of my life, I was not allowed to walk out of the house. When I finally was, it was to work at Mike's cafe. Even then, I was warned not to go anywhere without dad's permission. There were times when I had tried to betray that warning, by going to visit Nadia, and had learned the hard way that I should not go against my father.
After all these years of knowing Nadia, despite their hatred for her, I was later allowed to go out with her. But she was where they drew the line.
It was not like I had not been asked out before, but I declined them without a single thought. I knew dad would not be pleased and I did not wish to create problems for someone and even more problems for myself.
All had changed with this man sitting next to me because 'he didn't ask'.
Aaron stopped the car outside an elegant Italian restaurant. I twisted my head to look at the place and audibly gasped. The Italianate architecture combined with the exotic outside lighting screamed of luxury.
Although I had never visited this place before, I had heard of it to be one of the finest places to dine. The reservations had to be done months prior and the costs were outrageously high. This was exactly the place I would never want to be in.
Aaron tossed the keys to the valet and came to my side to open the door for me. He offered me his hand that I took without hesitation. He must have sensed my nervousness as he asked, "You're alright?"
"We might not be able to get a table here," I told him. That was only one part of it. Looking around myself with men and women dressed formally, walking in the restaurant, I felt out of place.
"We can't say that without trying, can we?" Aaron said, placing his hand on the small of my back and guided me towards the restaurant.
I trembled at his touch, the warmth of his hand almost burning a hole through my dress. He was walking too close to me and for a brief moment, the nervousness of being near him overpowered my nervousness about the restaurant.
If the outside of the restaurant was luxurious, the inside was exquisite. The interior gave out a royal feel that made it intimidating just as much as it was beautiful.
"Couldn't we have gone somewhere..." I struggled to find the word, "a little casual?"
"We'll do that next time," Aaron said, leaning towards me. His breath fanned over the shell of my ear, clouding my brain. It was when the clouds disappeared that I replayed his words in my head. Next time? There was going to be a next time?
A man, neatly dressed in a suit, made his way towards us. He greeted Aaron and me with a polite smile, then ushered us to our table near the window, while making small talks with Aaron. Our table was a little farther than the normal crowd and I pressed my lips in irritation as realization struck me. Of course, Aaron Woodwords can have any table he wants at any restaurant.
"See, we got a table," he teased, drawing a chair for me to sit on.
"You seem to know that man quite well, you come here often?" I asked to hide my embarrassment for my earlier statement.
"He's the manager here, also a friend," said Aaron. I nodded.
A man in his early twenties came to our table to take our orders. He greeted Aaron then looked at me and did the same. I had to force a smile because of his suggestive tone. He pulled out his notepad and asked for my order. I nervously glanced at Aaron as not a word on the menu made any sense to me, and the way the waiter's eyes moved over me, made me uncomfortable.
Sensing my discomfort, Aaron cleared his throat, drawing the waiter's attention to himself.
"One Bartolo Mascarello Cannubi, the Bice Tagliolini with Lobster and Truffles for me and a Louis XIII for the lady," Aaron ordered. Wasn't Louis XIII a French monarch?
"Anything else, sir?"
"Yes, bring the manager along when you come back with the order." Aaron said, handing the menu to the boy who looked a little troubled with that order.
"The manager is busy, sir. Is there anything I could help you with?" he offered.
"Just tell him it's Aaron, he'll know," Aaron replied, curtly.
The boy was taken aback by the tone and left with a nod. I shifted in my chair as we were left alone. I felt more comfortable with the absence of the waiter, but the intensity in Aaron's gaze made my heart race in the chest.
"Relax, Caroline. I thought you'd be used to places like these," Aaron said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes not leaving my face.
I looked down at my hands on my lap to hide the blush that had crept up my cheeks. All my life I had been called a disgrace by my father. When not by words, their actions made me feel I was worth nothing but today, the way he looked at me made me feel beautiful.
"I'm not. I prefer places where I can read the menu," I told him with a straight face. The only language I knew was the one I spoke and the Italian on the menu made the familiar alphabets look alien.
Aaron laughed, "do not worry. You can trust me with that order."
The order arrived along with the waiter and the manager following them. It was when the lid was removed over my plate that I realized I was not served the head of a former monarch, but a very exotic looking pizza. Aaron's was a pasta that looked just as good.
"Is there a problem, Mr Woodwords?" The manager came forward to ask. The waiter boy, who was now pouring the wine in two glasses, flinched by the mention of the last name.
"Jake, is it?" The boy finished pouring the wine and stood straight. Aaron looked at his name tag attached to his uniform and turned to the manager, "he's fired."
The manager looked at the boy who stood there with his eyes wide open and glared at him. "What did you do?" he demanded. The answer was silence.
"I don't pay my staff to flirt with visitors," Aaron said, giving the waiter a hard glare, "and I don't pay my managers to work inefficiently either. Do your work with perfection or not at all," he warned the manager.
The manager immediately started to apologize and Aaron dismissed both of them with a look that dared them to waste more of his time than they already had.
"Sorry about that," Aaron said in a much gentle tone to me.
The manager along with the waiter had left, but I was still in shock with the revelation. "You own this place?"
He nodded, taking a sip of his wine. "I was surprised that you didn't know already. I thought the first thing you'd do after you met me was run my name on the internet. But then, you've always been unpredictable."
"I know better to believe what the tabloids say, so I didn't," which was true. You could never trust the media. Especially not about people with resources.
There were times when I had read about Dylan in the newspaper or some article that had randomly popped up. For I had spent my entire childhood with him, I knew him much better than what the journalists would claim about him. Some things that they said were so ridiculous that it had destroyed my belief and trust in them.
"Tell me about yourself, Caroline," he said, leaning forward and taking a slice of my pizza. "Don't look at me like that, you can have mine as well if you want," Aaron said, offering me his pasta.
I laughed at that. There was no way I could finish the entire pizza by myself, no matter how good it smelled or how delicious it tasted, so it was for the better.
"About myself? Like what?" I asked, feeling stupid for repeating the question.
"Anything, other than being the most gorgeous woman I've ever met," I was sure I had turned to a bright shade of red as my cheeks were on fire. Aaron smirked as if he had expected that reaction.
"Well," I tried to search for words because thinking had, all of a sudden, started to feel like a hard task. "You already know my father."
"That I do." There was a subtle annoyance in his tone as he said that, but it was gone just as quick as it had arrived. "Tell me about yourself, Caroline. I'm not interested in your family. Tell me everything I don't know about you, your likes, dislikes," Aaron said, looking straight into my eyes.
He wanted to know about me, but there was hardly anything to tell. I didn't have an interesting life like Lahaina's or a crazy one like Nadia's. I didn't have anything to tell about myself. My hobbies? Do I even have any? I remember I used to love reading and painting with my mom but after that horrible night, everything had changed. I had lost everything the night I lost my mom. I had spent most of my time behind the locked doors of my room crying. There was nothing to tell. I didn't have a life!
"I liked to paint," I told him, trying to hide the melancholy in my voice.
"Liked?"
"Like," I corrected myself.
Though I was not allowed to paint after my mother left, the love I felt for art was still there. The years had passed by without me touching a paintbrush but the joy of putting my imagination on a canvas was still fresh in my heart. It was the one thing that helped mom to calm herself after dealing with dad and it had become an escape for me as well. Then, it was all snatched away from me.
"I'd love to see you paint someday," he said and I gave a sad smile. My heart ached knowing that day was never going to come.
"I'm building an art center, it's part of the philanthropy work. I don't know much about paintings but I can take you there," Aaron offered.
"An art center? I'd love to visit it," I told him with over-pouring happiness.
"It's not complete yet, but I think you could give some advice," Aaron said. I looked around the restaurant once again awestruck by the beauty, like he needed any advice. The man knew his work.
"Also it's where your cafe used to be. I'll take you there this weekend," Aaron said and I realized I had agreed to it without thinking about the implication. I could not be seen with him by my father. It would not end well for me.
I tried to come up with an excuse but Aaron had already changed the subject. We talked about a lot of random things, jumping from one subject to another. I was astonished by his knowledge about almost everything.
The man was a total genius. He could talk about any topic so intellectually and effortlessly as if he had a PhD in almost everything. He had claimed he did not know much about painting, but I was sure if I brought that topic up he would make me feel like an utter fool.
At first, I was a bit intimidated by him and his personality, who wouldn't be? But, not once he made me feel stupid for not knowing things.
We finished our dinner and he dropped me home. Dad's car wasn't there yet, meaning they had not yet returned from the ball. I sighed with relief.
I stepped out of the car and smiled at Aaron, "thank you for such a wonderful evening." I had not expected it to go as well as it did and I was grateful to him for that.
"The pleasure was all mine," he said as he followed me out of the car.
He stared at me, his eyes looking into mine with such intensity that it made a shiver run down my spine. Aaron took a step closer to me and placed his hand on my waist, pulling me closer.
"You're beautiful, Caroline," he whispered, his voice husky.
My heart was hammering inside my chest and my body was very aware of his presence. Aaron's head moved closer to mine, his eyes dropping to my lips then back to my eyes.
I tried to take a step back, away from him, but my legs didn't move. His closeness had forced my brain to shut down and I failed to gather thoughts. His face was dangerously close to mine, the tip of his nose almost touching mine. I squeezed my eyes shut.
He kissed me on my cheek and stepped back.
My eyes fluttered open with shock. Did he notice my hesitation?
Was I disappointed?
Yes!
No!
Yes!!
No!!
Hell yes!!!!
Just shut up, inner voice! I internally screamed at the traitorous voice in my head.
Liar! It mocked me.
"Good night, Caroline. I'll see you this weekend," Aaron said with a smirk. Why was he smirking? Can he hear my inner voice? I shook my head—no way.
"Good night," I said, more like I whispered, and quickly turned around and went inside my house. Switching on the lights, I looked out from my window. He was smiling to himself, then went inside his car and left.