Page 82 of Angels Are Falling

“Whatever, grandpa. Biblically speaking, that’s middle age.”

His voice was thick with amusement. “Middle age?”

“Yup. You’re an antique. Stop collecting dust.” I swiped a line of imaginary dust off his shirt. The fabric was softer than I expected, warm from his skin beneath it.

His eyes dropped to the spot I had touched, and I withdrew my hand a beat too late. My breathing had gone shallow even though he wasn’t looking at me.

His eyes cut to mine. I kept my expression innocent. “With age comes infinite wisdom.” He thrust the dress back at me with quiet certainty. “Listen to your elder and try on the dress.”

Clearly, he wasn’t going to let it go. I reluctantly moved toward the single fitting room and set the dress over the stall. The same sinking feeling returned when I noticed the tag again. I had counted one less zero the first time I saw the price. “Will they at least give you a senior discount?”

He glanced at me right before I shut the door. The real look, not the guarded one, but the one that surfaced occasionally.

“Does our age difference bother you?” His voice was quieter than usual, stripped of its usual certainty. I couldn’t see his expression since I had closed the door to shed my clothes. There was something about hearing him when I couldn’t see him that made me go still for a moment. I stood in the half dark of the fitting room and held the orange dress against my chest.

My fingers curled around the fabric. “No?”

“That sounded like a question,” he commented.

“No.” I cleared my throat. “It doesn’t bother me.” Uncertainty derailed me for a moment. Kai was used to sophisticated women. Older women. Was the woman he was in love with older than me? I wasn’t even old enough to rent a car. “Does my age bother you?”

His answer was immediate. “No.”

I zipped up the dress with extreme reluctance. The color made my skin look warmer. The cut landed exactly right. I stared at myself in the fitting room mirror for longer than I intended.

I came back out and said nothing, which Kai correctly read as a concession. He didn’t gloat. He simply handed the saleslady his credit card, which was somehow worse than gloating because he acted as though his being right had never been in question.

I rolled my eyes. “It was a lucky pick.”

“Mm.” He made me turn around so the saleslady could cut the tag. I suppose he wanted me to wear this for our night out in town.

He stopped at a rack near the window and pulled out a headscarf in a beautiful shade of champagne. Not a color I would have ever reached for, but one that I immediately understood would look extraordinary. He held it up without a word. “This one, too.”

I let the saleslady ring it up. This time, I didn’t look at the price tag only because Kai seemed pleased that I had let him pick out my outfit.

By the time we left the boutique, we had numerous shopping bags—all Kai’s selections—and the driver was waiting for us outside. I kept expecting him to leave now that he had bought me a few nice things. At the very least, I thought he’d take phone calls and ignore me.

Kai merely handed our shopping bags to the driver and suggested we get drinks at a rooftop bar. Still feeling a bit distrustful, I climbed into the car reluctantly.

The driver drove us to an upscale hotel. I got out and stood on the pavement. Kai walked beside me and guided me to the hotel. The lobby was all pale marble with low amber lighting, the kind of place that made you feel underdressed and overstimulated at once.

With the push of a button, Kai summoned the elevator to the rooftop. The elevator doors closed and gave me back our reflection—Kai calm and unreadable, one hand loose at his side, the other settled at my waist as if it belonged there. I studied our reflection for a moment. Seeing us together was disorienting. The way we fit together in a mirrored panel appeared totally natural from where I was standing.

The elevator doors opened to the open air. The city was spread out below us in every direction, though it was too dark to make out anything concrete. The hostess led us to a corner table set apart from the others, half shielded by tall hedges pruned into perfect geometry. It was a table you didn’t request. The kind that was simply waiting for someone like Kai.

We sat across from one another. A candle between us threw uneven light across the white tablecloth, catching the angles of Kai’s face in a way that was genuinely convenient. Did he know how distracting his face was?

Someone poured water without being asked. The bread arrived with the drinks, and my wine was refilled before I noticed it was empty. We were on our third round of cocktails, my head pleasantly fuzzy, when Kai’s phone buzzed in a way that was clearly not a suggestion. He had been ignoring it all day.

I glanced at him and watched the familiar focused expression settle over his face, the one that meant his full attention was required. I didn’t mind. He had put off his work long enough and given me a day I would cherish for years to come.

“Take it,” I told him.

“I can call them back.”

“Kai.” I set down my drink. “Go do your zillionaire phone call. I’m perfectly capable of enjoying one drink by myself in my favorite city.”

He seemed hesitant, but my face must’ve urged him. “Okay. I’ll be downstairs.”