"Ooo you're a player I like that."

Her long fingers caress his face for a few seconds holding his glaze. She smiles warmly at him before responding. "I like you." Her voice drops to a husky murmur beneath the clinking silverware and distant jazz piano. "There’s hunger in your eyes... reminds me of myself twenty years ago." She leans back, letting the chandelier light catch the diamonds at her throat, each facet throwing sharp pinpricks across the linen tablecloth. A waiter materializes silently, refilling her champagne flute the bubbles rise frantic and pale against the gold liquid.

He responds. "Hungry? Yeah. Starving." His gaze locks onto hers. Below the table, his hand finds her knee, fingers tracing the hem of her dress where silk meets skin. He feels the subtle shift of muscle beneath, the warmth radiating through the fabric. Her pulse flutters visibly at her throat, diamonds trembling against caramel skin. The champagne bubbles burst against his tongue when he takes a sip dry, crisp, biting.

"Twenty years ago you’d have eaten me alive. Pretty boy." She said taking his hand away slowly. "Now I’m the one that eats." Her smile didn’t touch her eyes as she lifted her glass. "To hunger." The crystal rang sharp as she clinked it against his, the sound piercing through the restaurant’s murmur.

Outside, neon signs blinked crimson against the velvet night warnings disguised as invitations. Her foot brushed his calf beneath the table, deliberate and slow, silk whispering against his jeans. He could feel the ridge of her stiletto heel pressing in, a promise of pressure that coiled low in his belly.

She continues. "I'll see you at the party this weekend. Make sure you wear something that catches the eye. I know you can be a huge star for me and my company. Only if you allow my influence."

She soon leave with the final words as he think about what he can do before heading to the fancy party during the weekend. He walk outside the restaurant, overwhelmed by the sudden cool air hitting his flushed cheeks, the city’s nighttime hum now feeling like white noise after the intensity of their exchange. Neon reflections danced on rain-slicked pavement, but his mind replayed only her parting glance—that predatory amusement in her eyes, promising more than mentorship.

Vanilla and leather still clung to his senses, mixing with exhaust fumes and wet concrete. He fumbled for his phone, thumb hovering over Dan’s name. Tell him? No. This was between him and Diamond now. Strategy crackled through him like static, impress her, own the room this weekend, make her need him

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