Serena
Damien came downstairs dressed a few minutes later.
He looked good. As always. Dark shirt, tailored pants, his watch sitting neatly on his wrist. He looked so good that for a moment, I wasn't thinking about the scent I'd perceived when he entered the house.
Maybe I was overreacting and overthinking. He could have bumped into a woman, or had a minor accidental situation. At this point, I was trying to convince myself that everything was fine.
But tonight felt off.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded and grabbed my bag. He held the door open for me, and we walked out together. The driver was already waiting.
Once we were in the car, silence settled between us.
"So," I said after a while, turning toward him, "where are we going?"
He glanced at me. "Where would you like to go?"
I blinked. "What?"
"Where do you want to have dinner?" he repeated.
I stared at him, unsure if I heard him right. "You didn't make any plans?"
