Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Knew Him Before LivDominic chose the restaurant with the seriousness of a man negotiating an international peace treaty.
Liv knew this because he sent her four possible options during the afternoon.
Then six.
Then a spreadsheet.
At 4:12, she received a message.
Option C has better lighting. Option F has a chef who owes me a favor, but that feels ethically questionable for a first date.
Liv replied:
You built a multimillion-dollar company but cannot choose dinner. Impressive.
His answer came immediately.
I have never cared whether a date liked the restaurant before. This is new territory.
She stared at the message longer than necessary.
That was the problem with this version of Dominic.
He kept saying things that slipped beneath her defenses before she could prepare.
Eventually she chose Option C, mostly to stop the spreadsheet from growing.
The restaurant sat forty floors above the city, surrounded by glass and golden evening light. It was elegant without being pretentious, though Liv suspected Dominic’s definition of “not pretentious” differed significantly from the rest of humanity.
She arrived first.
On purpose.
She needed several minutes to remind herself this was simply dinner.
Except it was not simply dinner.
It was her first date with a man she had known for three years.
Her boss.
Her closest friend.
The person who knew she hated cilantro, slept with a fan on even in winter, became silent when angry instead of loud, and checked hotel reviews for cleanliness before price.
There were no introductory questions available.
No safe discussion about siblings or hobbies.
They already knew each other too well.
Dominic arrived seven minutes later.
He stopped when he saw her.
Liv instantly regretted wearing the green dress.
Not because she disliked it.
Because Dominic’s expression made it clear he liked it far too much.
He walked toward her.
“You’re staring,” she said.
“Yes.”
“That’s generally considered rude.”
“I’m willing to accept the social consequences.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’ve seen me dressed up before.”
“Not on a date with me.”
The words changed the air between them.
Dominic pulled out her chair.
She stared.
“What?”
“I’m being gentlemanly.”
“You look uncomfortable.”
“I am deeply uncomfortable.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never needed to impress you before.”
“You’ve been trying to impress me since the day we met.”
“That was different. That was recreational arrogance.”
Liv laughed.
He relaxed slightly.
For the first twenty minutes, everything felt strange.
They discussed work because work was familiar.
Then Liv stopped him.
“No.”
“No?”
“We are not spending our first date discussing quarterly projections.”
“Thank God.”
“You brought them up.”
“Because I panicked.”
Liv stared.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Dominic Cain panicked during a date?”
“Liv, I negotiated a fifteen-million-dollar acquisition without notes last year. I have absolutely no idea how to date someone I genuinely care about.”
Something warm moved through her.
“Try talking to me.”
“I talk to you every day.”
“Then stop performing.”
That landed.
Dominic leaned back.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
He considered her.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Liv smiled.
“You know almost everything.”
“Impossible.”
She thought about it.
“When I was seventeen, I wanted to become a photographer.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You never told me that.”
“You never asked.”
“What happened?”
“My father thought creative careers were irresponsible. My mother thought I’d eventually get married and it wouldn’t matter what I studied.”
Dominic’s expression tightened.
“So you chose business.”
“I chose practical.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Sometimes.”
He was quiet.
“What would you photograph?”
“People when they forget they’re being watched.”
That answer seemed to catch him.
“Why?”
“Because most people perform when they know someone’s looking.”
Dominic gave a small, humorless smile.
“You’d have hated photographing me.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You forget sometimes.”
“When?”
“When you’re concentrating. When you’re worried about an employee. When you’re reading emails from the charity foundation you pretend you don’t care about.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You know about that?”
“Dominic, I have access to your calendar.”
“That feels like a violation of privacy.”
“You literally gave me access.”
“A tactical error.”
Liv smiled.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Dominic’s humor faded.
He looked toward the windows.
“When I was twenty-two, I almost got married.”
Liv froze.
“You what?”
“I knew that would work.”
“You almost got married?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
A shadow crossed his face.
“Her name was Serena.”
Liv felt something unpleasant in her stomach.
Not jealousy exactly.
Something closer to disorientation.
In three years, Dominic had discussed dozens of women casually.
Never Serena.
“What happened?”
“We were together for almost two years.”
“Two years?”
“I was capable of relationships once.”
“Apparently.”
He traced his thumb around the edge of his water glass.
“I proposed.”
Liv stared.
“What happened?”
“She said yes.”
“That usually helps.”
“For about six weeks.”
His voice had changed.
The teasing disappeared.
“She ended it?”
“She slept with my best friend.”
Liv’s anger appeared instantly, irrationally, on behalf of a twenty-two-year-old version of Dominic she had never met.
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“Your best friend?”
“College roommate. Business partner at the time.”
“That’s horrible.”
“I handled it exceptionally well.”
She studied him.
“Meaning?”
“I slept with half of Manhattan and decided emotional attachment was a design flaw.”
There it was.
Another piece.
Another explanation.
“Was that before your parents’ marriage completely fell apart?”
“Around the same time.”
Liv understood now.
It had not been one thing.
It had been layers.
Watching love rot in his childhood home.
Then risking it himself and being betrayed.
He had built an identity from the wreckage.
Charm.
Casual relationships.
No expectations.
No vulnerability.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Dominic.”
“I hated that version of myself,” he admitted. “The guy who believed promises. The guy who bought a ring and planned a future and thought love made people loyal.”
Liv reached across the table.
Her fingers touched his.
“You didn’t do anything wrong by trusting someone.”
His hand turned beneath hers.
“You say that now.”
“I’ll say it tomorrow too.”
Something softened in his eyes.
Their dinner became easier after that.
They talked about things beyond work.
Liv told him about summers at her grandmother’s small lake house.
Dominic admitted he secretly loved terrible reality television.
She accused him of lying.
He named three shows and defended contestants with alarming passion.
Dessert arrived.
They were laughing when someone stopped beside their table.
“Dominic?”
His entire body changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that Liv noticed.
His shoulders stiffened.
His hand released hers.
He looked up.
The woman standing there was beautiful in the polished, effortless way wealth seemed to manufacture.
Dark red hair.
Elegant black dress.
Diamond earrings.
And an expression Liv recognized immediately.
History.
“Serena.”
Liv’s heart sank.
Of course.
Of course the universe would have timing this cruel.
Serena smiled.
“I thought that was you.”
Dominic stood automatically.
Not warmly.
Not eagerly.
But old habits lived in his movements.
“You’re back in the city.”
“Three weeks now.”
Her gaze shifted toward Liv.
“And you are?”
Dominic answered immediately.
“Liv.”
Something about his tone made Serena’s attention sharpen.
Liv stood.
“Olivia.”
“Serena Vale.”
They shook hands.
Serena looked between them.
“You’re Dominic’s assistant.”
There it was.
Not girlfriend.
Not partner.
Assistant.
Liv knew it should not bother her.
It did.
Dominic corrected her.
“Liv and I are together.”
Serena’s eyebrows rose.
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“How unexpected.”
Liv smiled politely.
“You’re telling me.”
Serena laughed softly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You did,” Dominic said.
Liv looked at him.
Serena’s smile tightened.
“You haven’t changed.”
“I have.”
The certainty in his voice surprised all three of them.
For a moment, Serena looked almost hurt.
Then she recovered.
“Well. I’m glad.”
She looked back at Liv.
“You must be special.”
Liv did not know whether it was compliment or warning.
Before she could answer, Serena touched Dominic lightly on the arm.
“I’d love to catch up while I’m in town.”
Dominic looked at her hand.
Then at Serena.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Her expression shifted.
“Coffee, Dominic. I’m not proposing.”
The choice of word was deliberate.
Liv felt it.
Dominic felt it too.
His jaw tightened.
“I understood.”
Serena looked toward Liv again.
“Of course.”
She stepped back.
“It was nice meeting you.”
“You too,” Liv lied.
When she disappeared into the restaurant, Dominic sat down.
Liv did not.
“Liv.”
“How long were you going to wait before telling me that the woman who destroyed your belief in relationships was back in town?”
“I didn’t know.”
“She said three weeks.”
“I haven’t spoken to her in nine years.”
Liv finally sat.
She hated the insecurity moving through her.
Hated that Serena had walked into the room and immediately transformed her into someone questioning everything.
Dominic reached for her hand.
Liv moved it away.
His expression changed.
“Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You’re not fine.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You also made me promise to communicate when I’m scared instead of retreating.”
The reminder irritated her because it was correct.
Liv looked down.
“She knows a version of you I don’t.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to marry her.”
“Once.”
“You were with her for two years. You’ve been with me for one day.”
Dominic went very still.
“That’s what this is?”
“I don’t know what this is.”
“Liv.”
“I know it’s irrational.”
“Feelings usually are.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
“She comes from your world.”
“What world?”
“This.” Liv gestured around them. “Money. Galas. people who wear diamonds to dinner and probably know what fork to use without Googling it first.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“Liv.”
“She knows your family.”
“So?”
“She knew you before you became this.”
“This?”
“The Dominic everyone knows. The CEO. The playboy. The man who doesn’t care.”
His eyes held hers.
“And you know the man underneath all of that.”
The words stopped her.
“You know the person I became after Serena,” he said quietly. “You know the habits I built. The fears. The worst parts. You’ve seen all of it.”
“But you loved her.”
“I thought I did.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes,” he said.
Liv looked away.
“I loved her.”
Pain tightened her throat.
Dominic continued.
“And she broke my heart.”
Liv hated hearing it.
“But Serena is not the reason I’m sitting here scared out of my mind about losing someone.”
Her eyes returned to his.
“You are.”
He leaned forward.
“I didn’t tell you about Serena because she hasn’t mattered to my life in almost a decade. Not because I was hiding some secret longing.”
“You looked shocked.”
“I was.”
“You let go of my hand.”
Regret flashed across his face.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because for one second I became twenty-two again.”
That honesty hurt more than a comforting lie would have.
Dominic rubbed his face.
“I saw her and remembered what it felt like to believe someone completely and discover I was an idiot.”
“You weren’t an idiot.”
“I know that intellectually.”
“And emotionally?”
“Apparently still working on it.”
Liv exhaled.
This was what she had asked for.
Honesty.
Not polished answers.
Not easy reassurance.
Messy truth.
“You really don’t want to see her?”
“No.”
“What if she asks again?”
“I’ll say no again.”
“What if she says she wants closure?”
Dominic looked directly at her.
“I closed that door nine years ago.”
Liv believed him.
Mostly.
Then his phone vibrated on the table.
They both looked down.
A name appeared on the screen.
Serena Vale.
Neither spoke.
The message preview displayed only six words.
There’s something you need to know.
Dominic stared at it.
Liv’s stomach twisted.
“Do you want to read it?” she asked.
“No.”
She looked at him.
He turned the phone face down.
“This is our date.”
“Dominic.”
“Whatever Serena thinks I need to know can wait.”
The rest of dinner continued.
They laughed again eventually.
Dominic kissed her outside her apartment.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like he was proving something without saying it.
But long after he left, Liv remained awake.
Because Serena’s message existed.
Because Dominic had a past.
Because love did not erase what came before it.
At 1:17 in the morning, Dominic finally read Serena’s message.
May you like
And what he saw changed his expression completely.
Your father contacted me. He wants to destroy your relationship before the board meeting next week.
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