Chapter Eight

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There was nothing sexy about brunch

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There was nothing sexy about brunch.

Brunch was just a meal where friends could catch up, parents could get some time to themselves, and families could share a meal before going their separate ways again. Girlfriends would be drinking mimosas; Babies would be making a mess in their highchairs and coffee cups would always need refilling.

It was familiar, it was cosy.

As I looked out of the window of the gallery, I noticed that the storm from last night had parted. The dark, gloomy skies were becoming brighter and the clouds were parting ways for the sun to peak through and brighten up the streets. It was funny how a little bit of sun did wonders. My mood was instantly lifted.

I could feel the sheer fabric of the baby blue floral dress against my legs as I walked back to the wooden gallery bench. I picked up my jacket, bag and the yellow umbrella Beth had bought me when we first moved here. I checked I had everything one last time. Phone, lip stick, debit card (just in case), keys... everything was here. I was ready and waiting for Dorian to arrive.

And just like that, there were a few knocks on the back entrance. I couldn't help but totter over in my heals. Opening the door, I found Dorian leaning against the door frame with his shoulder. His eyes landed on me as a smirk played on his lips.

"Glad I got the memo about the blue colour scheme." He spoke. I couldn't help but look over what he was wearing. There he was wearing a dark blue suit with a white shirt and subtle silver cuff links. There was no waistcoat or tie. He looked effortlessly handsome; his hair naturally ruffled but still neat. "Like what you see?"

"Mr Bradley," I teased him with his last name.

"Alena, what have I said about you calling me Mr Bradley?"

"I still think we should keep it professional." I teased again, shutting and locking the back door behind me.

"You said friends," He retorted.

"I think you implied that," I argued back.

A smile played on his lips as I felt a warm palm rest on the lower half of my back. He took my umbrella from me and held it in this free hand. He guided me to where the limo had parked. I recognised the chauffeur who was standing and waiting for us to enter the private vehicle. His round face and silver handlebar moustache were something I couldn't forget It was the same person who had dropped me off at 'The Lounge'. I couldn't help but give him a small smile and quick wave. He beamed at me as if he was happy to see me again. Opening the door for me, he greeted both Dorian and I.

"Ladies first," Dorian murmured near my ear. Climbing into the limo, I found myself sitting in the familiar leather seat. Unlike the dark, secluded exterior the light beige leather was a stark contrast. The door closed behind me and I found Damien getting in through the other side. He laid the closed umbrella on the floor.

"Good call, taking this with you." He spoke.

"Well, you know New York weather. Sometimes it can be unpredictable."

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