Undersold by B. B. Hamel

nothing was cute enough. Frustrated, I took a short shower, and finally decided on a tight dress, thin black stockings, and small heels. I didn’t know where we were going, so I decided to walk the line between casual and dressy.
    At nine on the dot, my door buzzed. I grabbed my smaller bag, which I had packed with an extra pair of panties and some other overnight essentials, just in case. I felt a little presumptuous, but I couldn’t help myself.
    He stood outside of my building. He was wearing an untucked gray button-down shirt and tailored dress pants. His sleeves were rolled up just below the elbow. He looked perfectly handsome and self-controlled, like he owned the streets and everything on them. He smiled up at me with that grin of his, and my stomach did flips.
    “Got changed for me, I see,” I said.
    “I had a feeling you’d outdo me if I didn’t.” He exaggerated looking me up and down. “Looks like you did anyway.”
    “Oh stop,” I said, laughing. We walked down my stoop and climbed into a black town car. There was a fogged glass partition separating us from the driver, and once we climbed in, the car started moving.
    “So, where to?” I asked.
    “A place I own, over on Market. I hope you like Italian.”
    “I love Italian.” I looked over at him. He was staring out the window with a faraway look on his face. I reached over and touched his hand.
    “Is something wrong?”
    He looked at me and shook his head. “Not at all. I just haven’t taken a woman out in awhile.”
    “Oh yeah, sure. I bet this is your first date in years.” I didn’t believe him at all, but I could tell something was going on with him.
    He smiled. “Actually, it is.”
    “Yeah, right. And I’m the rich one.”
    “Really, it is. It’s hard when you value your privacy and you’re someone like me. People recognize me in public, even though there are so few pictures of me out there. That’s only the case because I’ve worked so hard at keeping them to a minimum.”
    “So you haven’t dated all this time?” It seemed like such a waste for a man that looked like him not to be with women, although it was hard for me to admit that.
    His smile turned into a grin. “I didn’t say that, exactly. Just haven’t taken a girl out in public like this in awhile.”
    I blushed and hit his shoulder. It felt like a piece of stone. He laughed at me, and the drive flew by as we moved our way through Philly traffic.
    ––––––––
    A t the restaurant, he was quiet. It was upscale Italian, but intimate and the room was mostly empty. It was only a Tuesday night, and it was after the usual dinner rush, so we had the place more or less to ourselves. There were a few other scattered groups, but nobody I recognized. He ordered a bottle of wine I had never heard of and that wasn’t on the menu.
    “How’d you know to get that?” I asked.
    “Remember, I own this place.”
    I laughed. “Seriously? I thought you were kidding.”
    “Yes, seriously. I think the only person who recognized me is the manager though, and he knows better than to run around telling everyone. Discreet people keep jobs in my employ.”
    I smiled and shook my head with disbelief. I didn’t know he owned any restaurants, but it made sense. He certainly had enough money. He could own half the city for all I knew, and he probably did.
    When the wine came, he held his glass up, and looked me in the eyes.
    “To you and I. And to all the dirty texts you sent me.”
    I laughed. “You mean, to all the dirtier texts you sent me. ”
    We clinked glasses, and drank. We chatted idly about our lives, but he looked distracted, and kept glancing toward the door. I told him about my brothers, but didn’t mention Derek’s drug problems, or any details about my mother’s death. I stuck mostly to my dad, his cancer, and my brother John’s successes. Shane didn’t say much about his own family, and spent most of the conversation nodding and asking questions about my