Chapter 154

Hannah

“Can I take you to dinner tonight? Just you and me?”

I blinked incredulously at Noah, trying to decipher his intentions. Was he serious? Teasing me? Or was this another one of his schemes, like that last party?

“Just the two of us?” I asked, hand on hip, a disbelieving look on my face. “Why? Another networking event? Will Zoe be there?”

Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, Hannah,” he said tersely. “It’s just…” He paused, gritting his teeth. “You know what? Nevermind. Clearly you’re not interested.”

He turned to leave. Panic welled up; instinctively, I caught his elbow.

“Wait,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “…I might be interested.”

Noah paused, a smirk playing on his lips. “Is that so?” he said, pulling away. “Now you’re interested?”

“Just tell me the details,” I said. “And if it’s another trick to publicly humiliate me, I want a warning.”

Noah stared, incredulous. He sighed, throwing his hands up. “It’s not like that, Hannah. Can’t you have a little faith in me?”

“How could I?” I retorted, chuckling wryly. “Last time, it was a self-serving event. And you didn’t even know our anniversary date!”

Noah visibly blanched. “Okay, okay,” he said. “That was awful, and I’m sorry. It’s a reservation at Amici’s tonight. Just you and me. A private room, a bottle of wine…”

Amici’s… a romantic Italian bistro overlooking the river. We hadn’t been there in ages. The prospect was tempting, but I still suspected more.

“What for?” I asked. “Is it a special day?”

“No.” He shrugged. “I want to treat you.”

Narrowing my eyes, I searched his face for a lie—but found none. His green eyes flickered across my features. He still had his usual stony expression, but I believed him.

I let out a breath. “Alright.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you’ll come?”

“Yes,” I said, my face reddening. “I’ll go.”

Later that night, Noah pulled up to the bistro. Candlelight flickered from the windows, couples sat at tables, people strolled hand-in-hand. It was incredibly romantic. Too bad my husband wasn’t the romantic type, at least not with me.

“Why Amici’s?” I asked, watching him straighten his tie.

He shrugged—an infuriating gesture given the bistro’s intimacy. This wasn’t a date. So why here?

“I like their gnocchi,” he replied.

I pursed my lips. The gnocchi? I suspected more.

We entered, the sounds of violin music and clinking silverware filling the air. A hostess appeared.

“Alpha Noah, Luna Hannah. This way,” she said, leading us to a private room.

As we walked, I glanced at Noah. His face was impassive, but his freshly laundered suit and clean-shaven face told a different story. He looked perfect.

I wore a slim black dress, strappy heels, and a velvet shawl. A red clutch matched my lipstick. My hair was perfectly curled. I had made an effort.

I wondered if he noticed; did he think I looked nice? Beautiful? If so, he didn’t say it.

The hostess stopped at a private room. “Here you are,” she said. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

She left. My gaze followed her before returning to Noah, who was holding something. An extra necktie.

I furrowed my brow. “What’s that for?”

He held it out. “For your eyes. I’d like it to be a surprise.”