Chapter 14

The sleek, chrome exterior of the restaurant gleamed under the city lights, beckoning us with the promise of an opulent dining experience. Quinton, ever the gentleman, held the door open for me, his playful grin widening as I stepped inside.
The atmosphere was a symphony of hushed conversations and clinking silverware. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the elegantly dressed clientele, creating a sense of exclusivity that sent a shiver down my spine. We were worlds away from the cramped apartment and dingy laundry room I'd just escaped.
As we were led to our table, a familiar figure caught my eye. There, in a secluded corner booth, sat my ex-boyfriend, Mark. He was laughing, his arm casually draped around a strikingly attractive woman, their fingers intertwined. A pang of something akin to jealousy pierced my heart, a bitter aftertaste from a relationship long gone.
Quinton followed my gaze and let out a low whistle.
"You know him?"
I forced a smile, trying to mask my feelings and nodded. "It's not important."
Mark had been the epitome of privilege, his wealth and social status a constant reminder of the chasm that separated us. He'd used to flaunt his success, his subtle condescension chipping away at my self-esteem until I finally called it quits. What would he think of me now that I was a pornstar of all thing. Seeing him here, thriving and seemingly happy, only served to dredge up those old insecurities.
Quinton scoffed. "He's all flash and no substance. Though... he certainly has a type," he said, gesturing towards Mark's glamorous companion.
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Petite brunettes. He's an ex, right?"
I blinked at him. "How did you..."
"It's all over your face. I expected you to have better taste, you know?
My stomach churned. Mark had never been interested in the real me. He'd been attracted to my looks. Plain enough, but not too plain to make him look bad. Just enough to not outshine him. The memory still left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Suddenly, a mischievous glint sparked in Quinton's eyes. Before I could protest, he leaned closer and called out in a booming voice.
"Yvonne! Fancy seeing you here!"
The sound of my name carried. Mark and his companion turned to look at me.
"Yvonne? Is that you?" He chuckled, haughty and mocking. "What a… surprise. This is my fiancée, Olivia. We just picked out her engagement ring."
He gestured towards the woman, who offered a tight smile in my direction.
The news hit me like a sucker punch. Mark, the man who'd never even considered marriage with me, was suddenly engaged? Anger, hot and potent, bubbled up within me. Mark, oblivious to my simmering emotions, continued, his voice laced with a condescending tone.
"What are you up to these days?… pursuing your acting career." He made the word "acting" sound like a dirty joke. He knew. I cringed at the though. "Well, if things aren't working out, we're always looking for talented individuals at my company. Just something to consider."
The audacity of the offer sent a fresh wave of anger through me. He was offering me a handout, a pity job and based on Olivia's face she found it funny.
What did he think I'd crawl under his desk and blow him during work hours?
"Thanks for the offer, Mark," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I think I'll manage just fine on my own."
"Engagement rings, eh?" Quinton asked. "Shame we hadn't run into each earlier. I could have gotten you a discount."
Quinton placed a hand on my back, a silent gesture of support. The anger slowly receded, replaced by a newfound sense of surprise. Mark looked between us with surprise.
"A friend of Yvonne's is a friend of mine. Where'd you go? Giovanni's?"
Mark flushed. "No. Diamond's Direct."
"Ah, shame. Custom rings are far more personal, don't you think?" Quinton said.
"And you are...?"
"Quinton for short. I don't get into the last name because it's irritating. I'm in the diamond business. Giovanni is one of my brands."
His words hung in the air, a casual revelation that sent a jolt through me. I couldn't imagine Quinton being a wealthy man.
"The old man would have liked it if I took over the cosmetics business, but I don't care to know lotion from serums." he laughed.
Mark's eyes widened, a flicker of something akin to fear replacing the remnants of his smugness. "Really?" he sputtered, straightening in his seat. "That's… inconvenient."
"Indeed," Quinton replied, his voice devoid of any warmth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek business card, embossed with a discreet silver logo. "Well, you could probably still take it back and get a better ring... or maybe your wedding bands? Just mention my name. They'll take care of you."
Mark took the card hesitantly. He looked down at it with shock, then at me. I tried to look unsurprised. I had a grudging respect for Quinton's subtle maneuvering. Though he didn't have to cause a scene in the first place. He'd completely turned the tables, using Mark's own shallow materialism against him.
"That's… very kind of you," Mark stammered, his voice barely a whisper. He cast a nervous glance at Olivia, who was eyeing the card with interest.
Quinton turned, taking me by the waist. "Let's get to our table, hm? Nice meeting you both."
A surge of satisfaction washed over me as he sputtered. I heard Olivia tell him to invite us to sit with them, but we were already being lead away by the host.
As Quinton and I continued our conversation, my earlier apprehension about him completely vanished. He was a wealthy man but he was nothing like Mark... It helped that he was better at sex than Mark too. For some reason, the thought of him using his charm and wealth on my behalf filled me with a thrill that went beyond mere professional interest.