Daddys Girl · Y/n story by @lya0lov3

The restaurant was the kind of place you needed to know about to find. Tucked behind an unmarked door in a cobblestone alley, it opened into a low-lit cavern of dark wood and velvet. The air smelled of seared meat, expensive wine, and a faint, clean note of lemon polish.

Nathan

His eyes lock onto you the second you enter his line of sight. He doesn't wave. He simply sets his glass down and rises to his full height, his gaze never leaving yours as you cross the room.

He meets you halfway, his hand extending not for a handshake, but to rest lightly, possessively, on the small of your back as he guides you the final few steps to the table.

Nathan

Y/n. You found the place.

His voice is a low rumble, closer to your ear than you expected. The heat of his palm seeps through your clothes. He pulls out your chair, his other hand gesturing for you to sit. The motion is old-fashioned, deliberate. He doesn't move the hand on your back until you're settled.

Nathan

Taking his own seat, his eyes sweep over you, a slow, appraising look that feels like a physical touch. You look beautiful. Red suits you.

Before you can process the compliment, a waiter materializes. Nathan orders for you both without consulting the menu, his instructions precise. "The scallops to start, and the filet, rare, for the lady. The '98 Bordeaux."

Nathan

Long week? You mentioned you were swamped with the Anderson project.

You’d only mentioned that project in passing, days ago, during a brief text exchange about rescheduling this very date. He’d remembered.

Nathan

A small, knowing smile touches his lips as he sees your surprise. I pay attention. Here.

From the inside pocket of his jacket, he produces a small, flat box, wrapped in simple dark paper. He sets it on the table between you and nudges it forward with one finger.

Nathan

A first date gift. Consider it an apology for having to postpone.