Chapter 260
**Sara**
I followed Tom into the restaurant, my legs still a bit wobbly from our parking lot activities. The hostess greeted us with a practiced smile, her eyes lingering appreciatively on Tom. I couldn't blame her - he looked unfairly put together for someone who'd just had his hand up my skirt.
"Reservation for Thomas Blackwood."
The hostess's eyes widened slightly at the name. "Of course, Mr. Blackwood. Right this way."
As we weaved through the dining room, I noticed subtle touches of luxury everywhere—crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow, genuine artwork adorning the walls, and wine bottles meticulously displayed in elegant racks. This was the sort of place where they didn't put prices on the menu.
The hostess led us to a secluded corner booth, the kind designed for intimate conversations and lingering glances. Tom's hand rested on my lower back as I slid into the plush leather seat, the touch sending little aftershocks through my still-sensitive body.
"Your server will be with you shortly," the hostess purred, handing us menus bound in soft leather. I noticed she didn't bother mentioning specials or prices. This was definitely that kind of place.
"So," Tom said once we were alone, "wine?"
"After what you just pulled in the car? I need something stronger."
His eyes crinkled with amusement. "I didn't hear any complaints about what I was pulling."
"You're impossible." I opened my menu, pretending to study it intently. "And stop looking so pleased with yourself."
"I can't help it. You're cute when you're flustered."
I kicked him under the table. "I'm not flustered. I'm professionally composed."
"Is that what we're calling it?" His foot found mine, sliding up my calf. "Because I seem to remember a very different kind of composition in the parking lot."
Heat crept up my neck. "Can we talk about something else? Like why there aren't any prices on this menu?"
"If you have to ask..." He trailed off with a wink.
"Show-off." But I couldn't help smiling. "Fine, order whatever you want."
Tom set his menu down, fixing me with that intense gaze that made my insides flutter. "Have you thought about what we discussed this morning?"
I busied myself studying the wine list. "About staying at your place?"
"Unless there's another apartment offer I should know about?"
"No other offers," I said, fidgeting with my napkin. "I've just been swamped at work. I barely had time to breathe today, let alone think about moving arrangements."
"Mhmm." His leg slid higher under the table. "Too busy for any thinking at all?"
I tried to maintain my composure as his foot traced up my inner thigh. "Some of us actually work for a living, Professor."
His foot inched higher, brushing against my panties. The same ones he'd nearly ruined in the parking lot. I jolted, nearly knocking over my water glass.
"That's not playing fair," I hissed, glancing around to ensure no one had noticed.
"I never promised to play fair."
I pinched his leg hard through his pants. He jerked back with a yelp, drawing several curious looks from nearby tables.
"Violence? Really?" He rubbed his thigh with an exaggerated pout. "I thought we were having a civilized dinner."
"You started it."
"What are we, five?"
"You're the one playing footsie under the table."
The waiter chose that moment to appear, pen poised expectantly. "Are you ready to order?"
Tom gestured for me to go first, still rubbing his leg dramatically.
"I'll have the pan-seared scallops," I said, trying to sound sophisticated while fighting back a laugh at Tom's wounded expression.
"Excellent choice. And for you, sir?"
"The wagyu ribeye," Tom said. "Medium rare. And a bottle of the 2015 Château Margaux."
The waiter's eyes lit up at the wine selection. "An excellent choice, sir. I'll have that right out."
As soon as he left, I kicked Tom under the table again. "Show-off."
Tom winced, rubbing his shin. "You know, at this rate, I'm going to need a doctor."
"Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?" I batted my eyelashes innocently.
"I can think of several places that need kissing." His voice dropped an octave, sending shivers down my spine.
I cleared my throat, reaching for my water. "By the way, this dinner's on me."
He paused mid-sip. "Oh?"
"Yes. New job celebration, remember? I'm a working woman now, making the big bucks." I straightened my shoulders proudly.
"Are you sure?" His lips twitched with barely contained amusement.
"Absolutely. I insist." I waved my hand dismissively. "Order whatever you want."
The meal was incredible - every bite melted in my mouth. Tom kept stealing scallops from my plate, claiming it was "quality control." I retaliated by snagging bites of his perfectly cooked steak until he threatened to handcuff my hands under the table.
When the waiter brought the bill, I reached for it confidently. One glance at the total made my eyes bulge.
"Holy sh-" I caught myself, remembering where we were. "That's... um..."
Tom leaned back, thoroughly enjoying my reaction. "Something wrong?"
"No, no." I fumbled with my credit card, mental calculations racing. "Just... did they charge us in gold bars?"
"The wine alone was about two thousand."
I choked on air. "Two... thousand?"
"Give or take." His grin widened. "Still insisting on paying?"
"I..." My face burned as I looked at my card. "I might have slightly overestimated my new salary."
Tom burst out laughing, earning more curious looks from nearby diners. "I know. I just wanted to see how long you'd commit to the bit."
"You're evil." I slumped in my seat. "Pure evil."
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