It worked, but it came with a cost, because now I’m stuck in this impossible situation. And I know Declan overheard my conversation with Aaron setting up this dinner while I was on the phone in the locker room at the studio the other day, although he didn’t try to talk me out of it. He just asked me what I wanted… and I think he knows the answer. It was burning on the tip of my tongue, but I still couldn’t bring myself to say it.

I glance at my phone to check the time, blowing out a breath when I realize it’s way too late to back out of this now. For better or worse, I’m going to dinner with Aaron, so I might as well get this show on the road.

I do the rest of my makeup quickly, pat Ralph on the head on my way out the door and climb into my car with a knot in my stomach.

The knot only tightens on the drive to Altitude, the high-end restaurant downtown that Aaron picked out for us. It opened about a year ago with a ton of reviewer awards and buzz, and it’s been booked solid ever since. Part of me is shocked Aaron managed to get a reservation at all, especially since he apparently didn’t realize we might need one and waited until the last minute.

When we were together, it was always up to me to handle things like that. He swore it was because I was better at logistics, but I think it’s more that he just couldn’t be bothered.

Some things never change, but I guess there’s something comforting in that predictability.

Regardless, I would’ve been far happier going somewhere lower key, even if it meant going back to Sideline. People find it hard to believe because of who my dad is, but I’ve never been into all the glitz and glamour. I haven’t been to Altitude yet, but I’ve seen enough online to know that it’s not my style.

But Aaron has never been the type to do things quietly. He probably thinks this is the one big shot at winning me back he’s been trying so hard to get, so he’s pulling out all the stops, but even as I park and walk to the entrance in my best little black dress, I feel like I’m playing a part in someone else’s story.

The host, who’s dressed in a full suit, meets me at the door and opens it for me. The clink of dishes and the quiet hum of conversation meets my ears from the dining room.

“Do you have a reservation with us tonight?” the host asks.

“Yes. It’s under Aaron Barnett, for a party of two. I think he’s already here.”