The next morning, Soraya woke up bleary-eyed and hungry. She felt something cool against her skin and realized she was still wearing the dress Sorenth had given her the night before. She had never taken it off, and after examining the dress, it was surprisingly not wrinkled or stained in any way. It really was a fascinating material.

Sorenth. His face flashed across her mind—his dashing smile and olive-green eyes. Looking around the room, she spotted her phone on her cluttered nightstand and picked it up, only to realize it was dead. With a sigh, she found her charger and plugged it in.

While she waited for it to charge, she went over to her closet and flicked through her clothes until she found a flowy green sundress. Removing the beautiful gown and hanging it up, she quickly got changed and headed out to the kitchen to get a bit to eat.

She pulled together some yogurt, honey, and berries. Mixing it all, she took a bite absentmindedly—and gagged. Spitting out the foul food, she grabbed a cup of water and swished her mouth out to try and get rid of the taste.

After she was done purging her mouth of the horrid taste, she opened the fridge to inspect the yogurt. She had just bought it, and it shouldn’t have gone bad so soon. The expiration date was a couple of weeks out, so it must have been a bad batch. Disappointed, she dumped the yogurt out in the sink and recycled the container.

She heard a ding go off in her room, and the yogurt was forgotten as she padded into her room, making a beeline for her phone. She was only slightly let down to see Ahvi’s name pop up on the screen.

Clicking on her messages, she saw she had no other text. A quick glance at the time showed it was only an hour and a half until noon. Disheartened, she clicked her message open:

Ahvi: I’ll be out all day. Don’t worry about me.

Man, her boss is truly evil for making her work so hard on a Sunday. Soraya thought, feeling bummed out on her friend’s behalf.

She sent out a quick text asking if she needed help, then sat on her bed and scrolled through social media.

Fifteen minutes later, Ahvi replied, declining her offer but saying she should be home late that night. Soraya gave the message a thumbs up.

The afternoon sun shone through her window, warming her up while she lay cozy on her bed. She caught herself dozing off and decided a nice nap sounded like a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.

Eyelids growing heavier and heavier, she didn’t resist as sleep gently swept her away on a warm thought.

~

Waking up several hours later, Soraya yawned and stretched out her heavy limbs. All her late-night activities were starting to catch up with her.

Her head felt heavy, and her mouth felt dry. Smacking her lips together, she sat up in bed. Looking over her shoulder to her window and beyond, she saw the last light of the day peeking through the buildings of downtown.

Getting up, she checked her fully charged phone and saw that it was almost eight at night. There was one message from Jesmine stating that she was going to the gym and would be a while. That was it. There were no other texts she received during her marathon nap time, and something in her heart twisted at that.

It was just a one-night stand, she thought to herself. It didn’t mean anything.

Forcing herself to squash the disappointment—and, if she was honest with herself, the hurt—she threw her phone on her bed and put her hands on her hips, thinking.

Ahvi was out and most likely won’t be home until well past midnight. Jesmine was at the gym working her feelings out, which could take a while. So, what was she going to do with herself? Soraya didn’t like being alone for too long; it made her restless.

She could stay home and binge-watch a show or start a movie series. Or maybe she could do something useful like visit the soup kitchens she often volunteered at. But…

Something under her skin was buzzing with adrenaline. She felt more awake than ever, and her body craved movement. To do something.

Her stomach growled ferociously. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day, and when the sharp hunger pangs spiked through her stomach, she made up her mind.

Flinging open her closet door, she took out the gold dress that was gifted to her by someone she didn’t want to be named.

Giving it a quick sniff test, she deemed it clean and whipped it off its hanger. Throwing off her clothes, she went over to her drawer and pulled out a pair of clean underwear. After sliding the underwear on, she pulled the dress overhead and shivered as the material sluiced down her body in one smooth wave.

She couldn’t wear a bra with it unless she wanted the straps to show.

Taking a look in the mirror, she decided to forgo the heavy makeup and chose instead to curl her eyelashes and swipe them with mascara. Nude lipstick completed the look.

Letting her hair flow down her back, she curled the ends and examined herself in the mirror. She wished she had a nice pair of dangling earrings to go with the dress—maybe one day.

Grabbing her phone and white clutch, she stepped into her strappy gold heels by the door before she swiftly exited the apartment to venture yet again into the downtown area.

~

Walking through downtown, looking the way she did, garnered plenty of attention from both men and women. She knew she looked ethereal—thanks mostly to the dress—and she almost felt like it, too, if not for the relentless growling of her empty stomach.

She passed one of her favorite taco trucks, tempted by the thought of three mouth-watering al pastor tacos, complete with sweet pineapple. But the moment the scent hit her nose, she recoiled, slapping a hand over her face to block out the horrid smell.

The servers and cooks cast her a few suspicious glances as she rushed away, cheeks burning with embarrassment at her reaction.

But it wasn’t just their food—it was all of them. Her favorite burger joint smelled too rancid, the sushi place too fishy, the pizza too plastic, and even the rich spices of her beloved Indian cuisine made her gag. Everything, including the very downtown air, seemed unbearable. Frustrated, she pulled out the travel perfume from her clutch and gave herself a spritz. It helped, but only a little.

Left hungry, cranky, and increasingly annoyed by how the day was unfolding, she stomped her way down the gum-stained sidewalks, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Letting her hunger and feet take her wherever they wish—her mind swirled aimlessly—about Tariq. About Sorenth, about Ahvi and Jesmine and the stupid food—

The smell of something so profoundly delicious wafted its way around her, halting both her mind and feet in their tracks.

She looked around and saw she was on some random street. Cars and buses were passing by her on her right, and a steady stream of people was walking around her as they chatted merrily among themselves.

Sniffing the air, a group of people dressed for clubbing gave her an odd look before laughing to themselves as they passed her fully. She didn’t care. Not as her mouth watered with anticipation.

Turning her head, she saw a restaurant she had never seen in the area before. The Drunken Duck. The most marvelous smells she had ever smelt in her whole life wrapped her up and drew her in.

Salivating, she reached for the handle and was jolted with electricity. Hissing, she shook her hand, cursing the stupid static, and tried again. This time, she managed to open the door and stepped inside.

For a moment, it felt as if she were stepping through a force field—entering in slow motion. But when her foot landed on the floor inside, she realized she was in a lovely restaurant, complete with a bar occupying one side of the room. The low ceiling was well-lit, and charming little lanterns adorned the tables scattered throughout the space, each flickering with a warm red flame that created a cozy ambiance for the patrons enjoying their tasty-looking dishes.

The atmosphere was inviting, and she decided she didn’t care what the price was; she was going to savor the best meal they had if it meant tasting something out of this world, judging by the heavenly aroma surrounding her.

Wandering down the few steps, she headed toward the bar. There were seats available at the far end, but in the middle sat a lone man.

He had a broad, straight back, and as she approached the bar, her feet turned away from the empty seat by the wall, drawn instead to the one a couple of seats down from him.

As she settled into her seat, she casually glanced over at him.

He had black hair that was glided by the fake flame of the lantern in front of him. Dressed in a long-sleeved white dress shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks, he sat with his hands steepled in front of his mouth, his elbows resting on the bar. He looked deep in thought.

Breathing in the air, she could smell all sorts of wonderful things, but what really stood out to her was the smell of jasmine and sagebrush.

Rubbing her thighs together, she could clearly see how handsome his side profile was. He had thick eyebrows and a strong jaw. He was a big man, but not as imposing as Tariq—she couldn’t help but also notice.

She debated striking up a conversation with him when a beautiful woman glided right up next to him. She had fiery red hair that was cut into a bob. She was a tiny thing with soft curves and a dazzling open-back green dress that flowed around her mid-calf.

“Hello, my dear. You look as if you could use some company tonight,” she all but purred into his ear. “Allow me to join you?” She said the last part while wrapping her hands around his bicep.

Soraya pursed her lips. She should have approached him sooner, then shook her head because she didn’t come out for sex tonight. She just wanted to dress up and treat herself to something nice.

“I wish to be alone,” the handsome stranger replied firmly, disengaging her clawed fingertips from his arm. Reluctantly, she stepped back.

The woman sent a pout his way but shrugged her thin shoulders and smiled. “Whatever you want, love. But if you get lonely, you can find me in the garden.” She cast over her shoulder before sauntering away.

Sighing, the man rubbed his temple.

“Here you are, Sir. Alta Rouge with a side of herbed vegetables.” The server set the plate in front of him, bowed, and then swiftly made his exit through the double doors that more than likely led to the kitchen. Soraya tried to catch him before he completely disappeared, but she missed her chance, and her stomach was not happy with her for it.

She would have said this place had excellent customer service, given the whole performance the waiter put on for the handsome stranger, but he utterly ignored her as he headed back to where all the delicious aromas drifted from.

Side-eyeing the handsome stranger’s plate, she spied a beautifully prepared dish: glazed white meat steaming on a bed of roasted gold potatoes and greens, with a side of a magnificent fluffy piece of grained bread with butter melting off the sides of it.

She swallowed as her stomach growled loudly—VERY—loudly. Embarrassed, she looked down at the countertop in front of her. She didn’t think the handsome stranger could hear her stomach, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him tilt his head her way.

She watched out of her peripherally as he hesitated with his fork. “Excuse me, my lady.”

Surprised, she darted her eyes to the other side of her to see who he was addressing.

Who the hell addressed women these days with ‘my lady’?

She secretly kind of liked it.

Huffing out a breath that sounded a lot like a laugh, he continued, “I can hear your stomach, my lady. Do you wish for me to get you the server?”

Finally turning to face him, she wasn’t prepared to be assaulted by his classic beauty. He did indeed have a strong brow, full lips, and dark eyes that captivated her. His hair was perfectly swept over, and he looked…well, he looked appetizing.

She swallowed and shook her head, realizing she needed to respond like an adult. “No, thank you. I was just about to leave.” She mentally kicked herself as the words left her mouth. She was never the one to run off scared—she blamed her empty stomach for her cowardice.

Raising a single eyebrow, he remarked, “You just arrived, my lady. Does the food not look appetizing to your fine palate? Or is the cuisine not as good as the Dovecote’s?”

Filling heat on her cheeks, she yet again shook her head, her hair moving like a thick curtain around her, tickling her arms. “No, that’s—” she let out a short, quick laugh to steady her nerves. “I’m just not sure what to order.” It was the truth. Then, finding her courage, she asked, “May I try some of yours?” She gestured to his plate.

Amused, he silently slid his plate over, not completely to her, but enough to indicate that if she wanted to try some, she would have to come closer to get a taste.

Doing just that, she moved one seat over and sat next to him. She could feel his body heat warming her side; he offered her the fork on the tips of his fingers. Tentatively, she grabbed it and smiled gratefully at him before turning her attention to the plate of luxurious food.

Her mouth immediately watered in anticipation. She heard him chuckling under his breath but ignored him as she cut into the soft white meat with the fork and swirled it around the orange sauce at the bottom of the plate.

He hummed in approval, making her unconsciously shift in the stool. Bringing the food to her mouth, she took her first bite—flavor exploded in her mouth. Her eyes widened.

The meat melted like butter, and the spicy, savory taste blended into absolute perfection. She couldn’t help but moan. She didn’t notice the handsome man beside her going completely quiet as she began to skewer the veggies and little golden potatoes, all but shoveling them into her mouth. Soraya had never tasted something so flavorful, so decadent, in her life. She had never been a foodie, but food like this…

She was halfway through the plate when she realized…it wasn’t hers. Sheepishly, she swallowed her bite and was about to put down the fork when he commanded, “Keep eating.”

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she saw the serious look on his face. When his gaze shifted from her mouth to her eyes, he nodded and said a tad bit softly, “Please, enjoy yourself, beautiful.”

Something inside of her—pride more than likely—reared its head and told her to unhand the fork, but her stomach—clearly the louder voice—said to eat it all. And so she did.

After finishing, she wanted to pick up the plate and lap up the sauce left behind but decided against it. She was wearing an elegant dress; she couldn’t act like a complete heathen in it.

Turning to look at him, she nodded her head. “It was delicious, thank you.”

Without a word, he reached out his hand and delicately swiped at some sauce in the corner of her mouth with the pad of his finger.

Blushing, she cleared her throat. “What do I owe you for the meal?”

“Your name,” he said without hesitation.

Looking into his dark brown eyes, she hesitated only for a moment before replying, “Soraya.”

He stood, towering over her. Offering her his hand, he purred, “Lestis. Would you care to join me for dinner?”

She raised a brow, a quirked smile on her lips. “I just ate dinner.” With a dramatic sigh, she continued while batting her eyelashes, “But I guess I can accompany you for yours, and I promise I won’t eat it this time.”

He gave her a slow, sensual smile. “I wouldn’t mind sharing my food with you, Soraya. And it would be my pleasure to treat you to dessert?”

Well… how was she supposed to say no to that?