"Any preference for your room?" He asked me as I was paying my last bills before I'd leave.

"Black curtains, and if there's multiple, knowing my childhood house, I'd love a room with a window not on the front of the house." I told him.

"Done. Furniture color?" He asked.

"Uhm, god I don't know, any wood. Not white it gets stained easy." I licked the envelope, shutting it before adding the stamp.

"Uh-huh, do you have a problem with glass showers? That's the room I have for you and the shower is glass." He mentioned as I wrote my address on these envelopes.

"No problem."

"And were you serious when you told your dad you wanted a nice ring?" He asked.

"Dead ass." I chuckled.

"Okay."

"Alright, and I don't have gas money, would you mind picking me up for the dinner tonight?" I asked.

"No, and you can get rid of that car, I have-"

"I'm not ready to go full rich girl yet." I grumbled.

I heard silence as if he was gonna laugh but didn't.

"Fair. See you tonight Victoria."

"It's Tor-"

Fuck you asshole.

-

I frowned, not knowing what to wear.

Then I remembered what I wore on my 21st.

Most of my things were packed but I was saving my nicer clothes for last.

I put my hair in a ponytail, brushing out my lash extensions.

Before you judge, they're not super long, it's literally how my natural lashes look with mascara in not into having wings on my eyes.

I put on some chapstick before leaving, carrying my strappy heels with me as I walked out to the honk I heard.

I was shocked to see my door held open.

"Did you read a manners manual?" I squinted and he chuckled, the sounds kinda nice.

"No, I talked to my wife-respecting father." He shut the door and got on his side.

"Well that will work better." I buckled myself.

"Red looks good on you." He began his way to the restaurant.

"Thank you, is there anyway I can pay you back for dinner and the drinks? I feel bad-"

"Don't. Considering our current situation, you're my fiancée and paying for you is least of my worry." He glanced at me.

"Alright." I sighed.

"Why don't you let your dad pay for you?" He asked.

"Because I grew up being bought. It's just not that important to me. I'd rather have my own money to buy diamonds and heels and nice dresses than have my dad pay for it. It's an ego thing." I shrugged, trying to put on my stupid strappy heels.

"Fair and you alright?" He asked.

"No. It's fine." I sat back, not caring right now.

"Well, your whole ego thing with money needs to vanish because I have a lot and your closet is already full of heels and shit." He told me as he pulled into the lot.

"Damn. How do you know my size?" I asked and his eyes raked over the entirety of me.

"The last time you were fitted was 2 years ago. I have connections." He told me as he opened the door and got out.

I groaned, trying to grab my bag and my heels.

He opened my door laughing.

"You're not going in there barefoot." He raised his eyebrows.

"Says who?" I asked and his face shifted, an expression very odd coming onto his face.

"I apologize for my attitude. Todays been busy." I turned to get out.

"Sit. I can help. I'd truly prefer if you didn't walk in barefoot." He was gentler, almost hesitant to offer.

"Thank you. I am sorry, I don't mean to be on a short fuse." I scooted so my feet were outward and set on the little step from the car to the ground.

He hummed, placing his foot on the step, lifting my foot so it was sitting on his lower thigh as he slid my foot into the heel.

He moved it around my ankles, doing the small clasp before doing it to my other foot.

"Do you always have your nails done or was that just a recent thing?" He asked.

"No, I save up for frequent nail appointments and lash appointments." I nodded and he held his hand out when he was done.

I took it, hopping out of the car as I let him go and shut the door.

"Ahh, well if you'd like to get them done within the next week before the wedding party let me know, I can have one scheduled." He opened the restaurant door for me.

"Thanks but I have money still-"

"We're sharing a bank account. Your money will be in there too." He told me as we got to the hostess stand.

"Fine." I grumbled.

"Just two?" She asked.

"Please." He nodded and I followed her as she walked, him somewhere behind me as she sat us down.

"Your waiter should be out soon." She set down the menu's and left.

I looked at him, his green eyes, his black hair, no tie which was weird but it suited him better. He was very defined and tattoos ran across his hands and neck. I wondered if his chest and back were tattooed in the same way.

His presence was awfully demanding, so I understood people's intimidation.

But there was something there that wasn't so... scary. I didn't even think he looked like that. To me he just looks like your typical hollywood mafia man.

When he stood he was decently scarier. 6'4 maybe 5? But I looked at him and just thought 'Asshole'. I don't know. Maybe it was just me.

"You're a lot different tonight." I studied him.

"Well, I have some issues I'm working through. But I learned that you're not necessarily a business partner or someone who works under me. You will be in my house, you will be with me in my most unprofessional times. You're my equal." He fiddled with the menu flap.

I squinted, knowing he was gonna continue.

"I just need to adjust to the fact that it's not just me anymore. I also respect you after last weeks conflict and I admire how quick you were to forgive and move on. So I'm working on my patience and lack of privacy." He looked at me and I just smiled.

"That's all it takes." I whispered when the waiter showed up.

"Drinks?" He asked, with his notepad.

"I'd like a Shirley Temple. Extra syrup." I folded my hands in my lap.

"Same." He copied.

"Alright and more time for food?" He asked.

"I'm ready." He looked at me.

"Alright." I nodded.

He ordered and I got the same thing but instead of his medium stake I got medium well.

"Those will be out soon." He walked away.

"I have a question, it's not to be weird though." He leaned forward, his confidence coming back to him since it wavered when he put on my heels.

"Sure." I nodded.

"Kids." He mumbled.

"Uhm, I love children, but I'm a fun aunt, someone you hand a kid for a few hours and just drop them back off. Not responsible for them for 18 years typa shit." I nodded.

"Thank god. Embarrassing admission but I was a fuck boy in my teen years and when I was 18 I got snipped." He rubbed his eyes and I laughed.

"Seriously? Do you regret that? You were so young!" I whisper-yelled.

"Oh no I don't regret it, I don't have the patience for kids. However, it's just not something I'm exactly proud of." He grinned, revealing a gorgeous smile.

Damn.

"I get that." I sat back.

"Are you a workaholic?" I asked.

"No." He shook his head.

"Assumed so." I nodded.

"Yeah?" He tilted his head.

"We've actually had a conversation about not you so I guessed you weren't." I laughed.

"Smart." The corners of his lips were turned up.

"By the way, you're awful at not interrupting me on the phone." I called him out and he smirked.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm and it's Tori, not Victoria." I squinted.

"You hate your name?" He asked.

"No but I don't like how you say it." I crossed my arms, his eyes immediately going to my chest but I didn't care.

He seemed to burn up at that more than I did.

I smiled.

"How do I say it?" He asked.

"Like you're about to ground me." I scoffed.

He laughed.

"Well I apologize but I like your name. Your whole name. It's pretty and it suits you better than Tori. Besides, no one else calls you it so if I say "Victoria" you know it's me." He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes as our drinks came out.

I immediately ate the cherries and he just smiled at me like I was ridiculous.

"What?"

"You want mine?" He asked.

"Uh yeah." I told him.

"Did you ever try to tie these in your mouth?" He took a stem off my napkin.

"Mmhm. I'm pretty good at it." I grabbed one too.

We placed it in our mouths and it was almost a staring contest to see who could get it first.

He won, it looked like he barely tried.

He set it down when I was done and I finished as well.

"Impressive." I squinted and he just laughed, scratching at his neck.

He seems to do that when he's nervous to irritated. He did it a lot when we met last week and I got into it with him.

"Food." He sat up and I looked, smiling at the tray coming our way.