A few minutes later, Rowan had been driven to where the lunch date would take place.
The restaurant was one of the city's most exclusive, the kind of place that required reservations months in advance and where a single meal cost more than most people's monthly rent.
Rowan sat across from Melissa at a private table by the window, his expression making it succinctly clear that he didn't want to be there.
He hadn't bothered to hide his frown, hadn't even attempted to be pleasant.
Melissa, for her part, ate with perfect elegance, her movements were graceful and refined as she cut into her meal with precise motions.
She chatted casually, telling Rowan about her family, her education, her interests, all the things someone would share on a normal first date.
But Rowan wasn't listening.
He sat there rigidly, his food untouched, watching the clock on the wall like he was counting down the minutes until this nightmare would be over.
