Sebastian's private number glowed on my screen like a beacon of hope. I couldn't stop staring at it, wondering what this meant. Important people don't give out their personal contact information unless they want you to use it.
For once, everything seemed to be turning around. I had my mother's bracelet back, Sebastian Sinclair himself had taken an interest in me, and tomorrow we would have dinner together.
But where? I couldn't invite someone like Sebastian to just any restaurant. He probably dined at Michelin-starred establishments regularly. My apartment was out of the question too – too intimate, too soon.
I called Vera in a mild panic.
"What's wrong?" she answered immediately. "You sound breathless."
"I need a favor," I said, twisting a strand of hair nervously. "Sebastian Sinclair agreed to have dinner with me tomorrow. I need somewhere impressive but private."
