Chapter 165
Aria's POV
I walked silently through the resort's marble lobby toward the exit. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot as I fished my car keys from my purse.
"I need a ride," Devon announced abruptly, breaking the silence.
I turned to face him. "What?"
"I didn't drive here." His expression was unreadable, gray eyes fixed on mine. "Marcus dropped me off."
"Can't you call him back?" I asked, already knowing the answer from Devon's unwavering stare.
"I need you to take me to Manhattan." His tone made it clear this wasn't a request.
I sighed, weighing my options. Refusing would only lead to more tension, and after what had happened in the hot springs, I didn't have the energy for another confrontation. "Fine."
Once inside my car, Devon immediately adjusted the passenger seat to accommodate his long frame. "Athena's on East 76th," he instructed, his gaze fixed ahead.
"The Greek restaurant?" I asked, pulling out of the parking space.
Devon nodded but offered no explanation. The drive from Serenity to Manhattan took nearly an hour, filled with a silence that felt heavier with each passing minute. I tried focusing on the road, but my mind kept replaying our encounter in the hot springs—the intensity in his eyes, the possessiveness in his touch, the way he'd punished me for my perceived deception.
When we reached Athena's, I pulled up to the entrance, expecting Devon to exit immediately. Instead, he checked his watch, then looked at me.
"Wait here," he said. "This won't take long."
Before I could respond, he was out of the car, straightening his suit jacket as he strode toward the restaurant's entrance. The hostess greeted him with familiar warmth, leading him inside without checking for reservations.
I debated leaving—I had every right to. He hadn't asked me to stay; he'd ordered it. But curiosity got the better of me. I shifted into park and turned off the engine, watching through the large glass windows as Devon was led to a table where a blonde woman waited.
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Devon's POV
I spotted Mandy immediately, her golden hair catching the light as she rose to greet me, her smile too eager. This was the third "accidental" meeting my mother had orchestrated in two weeks. Eleanor Kane was nothing if not persistent.
"Devon," Mandy breathed my name like a prayer, leaning forward for a kiss. I gave her a perfunctory peck on the cheek and took my seat, making sure to position my chair at an appropriate distance.
"I was so surprised by your call," she said, her eyes never leaving my face. "I thought after last time—"
"My mother arranged this," I stated flatly, cutting her off. "Let's be clear about that."
Her smile faltered slightly before reasserting itself. "Of course, but I'm delighted regardless of the circumstances."
Our meals arrived promptly—the staff at Athena's knew better than to keep me waiting. Mandy immediately leaned forward, taking my steak knife and fork.
"Let me," she offered, beginning to cut my meat into precise pieces. The gesture was meant to be caring, but it felt intrusive. I fought the urge to snatch the utensils back.
"That won't be necessary," I said, but she continued anyway, giving me a smile that suggested she knew what was best for me.
"Your mother mentioned you've been working too hard," she said, her voice lowered to a confidential tone. "She's worried about you."
"My mother worries unnecessarily," I replied, glancing at my watch. I calculated how long I needed to stay to fulfill my obligation. Fifteen more minutes should suffice.
Mandy placed her hand atop mine on the table. I shifted my arm away, reaching for my water glass.
"Devon," she said, leaning forward, her perfume too strong, too floral. It wasn't the subtle scent of jasmine and vanilla that I'd come to associate with Aria. "I hope you know I'm always here for you. We've known each other for years, and I thought after last time at your apartment—"
"About that," I interrupted, sitting straighter. "Don't come to my apartment unannounced again."
Her face fell. "I just cared about you. And I heard you were ill recently."
"My private residence is not open to visitors without prior invitation," I said, my voice cooling. "I value my privacy above all else."
"Do you hate me?" she asked, vulnerability creeping into her tone.
"No," I replied simply. One word, designed to end that line of questioning without encouraging further conversation.
I checked my watch again, deciding I'd fulfilled my social obligation. I placed several bills on the table, more than enough to cover both meals.
"I'm afraid I have a business matter to attend to," I said, standing.
"But we just started eating," Mandy protested, her hand reaching out again. "Surely you can stay a bit longer?"
"No," I said, already turning away. "Good evening, Mandy."
As I walked toward the exit, I sensed her eyes on my back. I felt nothing—no regret, no conflict. My thoughts were already elsewhere, with the brown-haired woman waiting in the car outside, whose defiance both frustrated and intrigued me in ways Mandy Stevens never could.
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Aria's POV
I quickly pretended to be engrossed in my phone when Devon emerged from the restaurant. He slid into the passenger seat without a word, his jaw set in a hard line.
"Home?" I asked, starting the engine.
"Yes," he replied tersely.
Before I could shift into drive, the restaurant door burst open, and the blonde woman hurried out. She spotted Devon in my car and rushed over, grabbing the passenger door handle before I could pull away.
"Devon, please," she called, her voice muffled through the window. "We weren't finished talking."
Devon didn't acknowledge her, staring straight ahead as if she weren't there.
I lowered my window slightly. "Excuse me," I said, keeping my voice polite but firm. "You might want to let go of the door. I'd hate for you to get hurt when we drive off."
Her gaze shifted to me, blue eyes widening as she registered my presence in the driver's seat. For a moment, she looked genuinely surprised. Then her expression transformed into something knowing, a smile that didn't reach her eyes forming on her lips.
"Well, hello again, Harper," she said, her voice dripping with false warmth. "Fancy seeing you here."
Again? I stared at her, trying to place her face. Had we met before? Something in her tone suggested familiarity, but I couldn't recall ever meeting her.
Devon finally turned to look at her. "Let go of the door, Mandy."
Mandy. The name clicked into place. Mandy Stevens—the woman Eleanor Kane had been trying to set Devon up with after Caroline Hayes. I met her once in the apartment in Devon. At that time, she acted like the hostess of the apartment.
She maintained her grip on the door handle, her smile turning brittle. "I see you've found another chauffeur," she said to Devon, then turned back to me. "Be careful, Harper. He doesn't keep his drivers for very long."