Be My Queen (The Crown Duet Book 2)

that he was still there at all.
While finally in the cab en route to the fancy Italian restaurant, I wondered if tonight would be the night that Marco presented me with the engagement ring Rachel had been gushing about. She’d been hinting at it for the last hour, apparently, tonight was a ‘special night’.
If he did propose, I hoped he had the sense to keep the receipt. Hopefully, I’d have the restraint not to throw it at him and run in the opposite direction.
The cab pulled up to Carluccio’s, a high-end Italian restaurant that Marco had made reservations at. It looked nice - fancy. It wasn’t exactly a place that I would’ve picked. But I got it, Marco was a flashy guy, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Before getting out, I scanned the faces through the huge crystal clear windows.
With no sign of Marco’s blond hair anywhere, I wondered if there was a bar he could be seated at.
I paid the cabbie and stepped out of the car, adjusting my dress as I did so. Apparently, it had been a mistake to let Rachel have my measurements. I woke up yesterday morning to a wardrobe full of exquisite dresses, tailored button-ups and dress pants. The only time I’d ever worn dress pants was to work at the coffee shop.
Sifting through all the dresses I chose a plain navy skater dress. Amongst a sea of sequins and ruffles - some of the most beautiful pieces I’d ever seen - it was probably the most casual thing I could find. The dress actually reminded me of something I’d bought on my shopping trip with Nikolai. For a second, I had a sad moment. That day out with him by my side seemed so long ago now. But I would have more days like that, I was sure of it, and they would not be with Marco Bellucci.
As I stepped towards the sleek glass door of the restaurant, it opened, seemingly of its own volition. A smiling young woman appeared a second later, with an iPad in one hand, and gestured for me to come in.
“Welcome to Carluccio’s. Do you have a reservation this evening?” she asked, her voice was musical and had a slightly lilting accent to it.
“Um, yes. It should be under Bellucci, Marco.”
She scanned the iPad screen for a moment. “Ah, yes, it’s right here. The rest of your party hasn’t arrived yet, would you prefer to wait at your table or at the bar?”
I looked over as she gestured to the bar. I could’ve definitely used a drink but as my eyes scanned the area, I changed my mind. There were a few open stools but the place was heavily crowded with men. And with drunk men came lame attempts at flirting.
Hmm, I think not.
“I’ll wait at the table.” Gladly.
The young woman smiled again and gestured to another young woman, a dark-skinned girl with neat box braids tied in a knot. “Right this way, ma’am. I’m Marci, and I’ll be your waitress this evening.”
As I looked around, I noticed a theme. I didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but all the staff were beautiful. The hostess and Marci included.
Well damn, no wonder the bar was packed with men.
After leading me to the table, the waitress produced a wine list and a menu that I hadn’t seen her pick up. “Would you like something to drink while you wait?” Marci asked.
“Yes please. I’ll have…” I glanced at my watch and longingly at the wine menu in her hand. I assumed that the polite thing to do would be to wait for Marco to order. “Just some sparkling water for the minute, please.”
“Of course,” she said with a nod, placing the menus on the table and gliding away.
As soon as she left, I scanned the wine list and regretted not ordering a drink. I was gonna need it, sooner rather than later. Realistically, I should have just picked the most expensive bottle on the menu and charged it to the bill.
The waitress was back quickly. This time, she held a large silver tray in one hand. With the other hand, she laid a number of things on the table: A large bottle of sparkling water, two highball glasses containing ice and lemon, a wicker basket with slices of warm bread and two small bowls of dip. Mmm, olive oil and dark balsamic vinegar, I was reminded why I loved Italian restaurants.
“Would you like something else to drink while you wait?” Marci opened the water and filled the glass in front of me.
“A bottle of sauvignon blanc, please.” I pointed at the wine I wanted on the list, and Marci copied it onto a small notepad.
“Help yourself to bread. It’s rosemary and kosher salt topped today, and it’s fresh out of the oven. I’ll be back in two shakes with your wine.”
My stomach growled loudly as Marci told me about the bread. I blushed but to her credit, Marci didn’t flinch. I don’t know if she didn’t hear or she just ignored it. Looking at my watch again as Marci shuttled off, Marco was late. Only fifteen minutes but still… it’s not exactly the best way to start a date, not to mention a first date with the person you’re betrothed to.
I mean, I couldn’t have cared less. It wasn’t like I was actually going to go through with the marriage but a little common courtesy would’ve been nice.
I sipped my water and nibbled on a slice of bread dipped in olive oil and vinegar. Marci was right to enthuse about the bread; it really was delicious. She was heading towards me with the wine the same time I spotted Marco’s blond head bobbing through the crowd, led over by a short-haired waiter.
“Can I get you something to drink, sir?” Marci asked as he placed his suit jacket over the back of the chair and sat down across from me. She poured out my wine and set