HOPE
It's 11 p.m. when I finally get to the date venue, and unlike what I expected, there are no people to meet.
If my guess is correct, he booked the whole hotel—up to the extent that he's the one making the dish. It's strictly just us in here.
I see his back and slowly call out to him. "Eli?"
Asher spins at my greeting, and some of the nervous excitement making my palms sweat and my heart pound recedes.
"Asher?" I gasp.
He has flour streaked all over his apron and across his pale cheek, but he's handsome in a way that would have stopped me on the street to giggle and grin as he passed.
His hair is swooped back from his face, and his features are strong and wide, with black stubble across his jaw.
His eyes land on me at once. There's no stopping the feminine pride I feel as his face goes slack, staring at me.
"Did you set this up? I thought I was meeting with Eli."
