“Nah.” He shakes his head, then dips a chunk of naan bread into the garlic hummus. “Don’t know what I’d do with myself. Relax by a pool? What’s that?”
I smile, feeling a little more at ease with each passing moment. I understand why women are drawn to him. While our first meeting felt intense, seeing him in his own space is comforting. “Your apartment is beautiful.”
He chews and nods. “Thanks. I bought it after I negotiated a bonus when I was offered a tenured position. Best investment I’ve made so far, financially and for my mental health. It’s a bit of a hike from campus but I don’t mind—the view alone isworth it.”
I follow his gaze to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Central Park. Lush green leaves stretch to the north and south, and the Dakota building stands anchored at the opposite edge of the park. It’s breathtaking. A thrill of pleasure runs through me at the thought of coming home to this view every day.
“You’re a lucky man,” I finally say.
“You’ll get no argument from me on that point.” We eat in silence for a few moments. My stomach is churning with anxiety—I have to find a way to get this man to open up a little more somehow. It’s not like I can snoop around his apartment in search of some sort of evidence of his crimes.
“Do you want to watch a movie maybe?” he finally asks.
“Okay,” I say, feeling like our chemistry is losing steam. We only had our first date last night. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since we last saw each other—maybe I should have made him wait a bit longer to see me again. But I felt the pressure from The Society, so when Matt reached out and asked for an impromptu walk, I went for it. It’s not like Jack will miss me at home anyway.
Fifteen minutes later we’ve finished eating, have packed away what’s left of the food, and are nestled on the cream leather sofa together. I wonder again how a professor can afford a luxury apartment like this, bonus or no—polished wood floors, cathedral ceilings, crown molding, and modern furnishings dominate the space—but I don’t ask.
Just when I’m thinking this second date of ours is going nowhere, his hand finds my upper thigh and he gives it a tender squeeze. “I really like having you here.”
“I like being here,” I confess.
He smiles back at me sweetly and a pang of guilt cuts through me. Can I really unravel all that this man has worked for? I muster a smile and then look away, his intense gaze weighing heavy on my thoughts.
“I really enjoy spending time with you,” he says. “I know it’s a little soon, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day today.” His hand travels up my arm and he leans in, his eyes focused on my lips. This is it. My heart hammers wildly.
“I... I need to use the bathroom,” I blurt out.
“Sure,” he says, smiling. “Down the hallway to the left.” He taps my knee before I stand. “I’m gonna run the garbage down to the trash shoot—I can’t stand having empty takeout containers in the house.”
I nod and smile. I take my time moving down the hallway as my thoughts race. I pass Matt’s home office on the right and then find the bathroom on the left. I step in, standing at the door but not closing it all the way, wishing I’d thought to bring my phone with me so I could text Aubrey quick and ask what I should do next. I hear the door to the apartment thud closed and then, like a lightning bolt, an idea occurs to me. Without thinking twice, I leave the bathroom and cross the hall to the office. Everything looks orderly and neat, no stray papers or files, but my eyes land on a short filing cabinet in the corner. I cross the room and try the top drawer. Stacks of what look like student essays greet me. I groan, thinking I only have a minute or two before Matt is back.
I open the next drawer and find rows of manila files labeled with words like insurance, retirement, taxes, and miscellaneous. I snatch that last one and flip through it quickly, finding what looks like contracts and other legal forms related to Matt’s work at Columbia. I groan—but then a check stub falls out. My heartclatters as I pick it up and flip it over to find the name Savannah Walker printed in thetoline. Ten thousand dollars is scribbled in black ink in the amount section. My heart drops.
And then I hear the thud of the front door closing.
I nearly lose my stomach as I stand, tucking the check stub into my bra and then replacing the file and closing the drawer. I’m not sure what I’ve just found, but it feels like something. There’s only one reason a professor would write a check to a student and it can’t be good. I wait a long moment as I listen to Matt move around the apartment. When he falls silent, I take that moment to peek around the doorjamb. The coast is clear, so I leave the office and cross quickly into the bathroom. I flush the toilet, flip the faucet on and wash my hands, and then leave the bathroom as nonchalantly as I can. When I return to the living room, Matt is sitting on the sofa facing the giant picture windows with the view of the park. Like a king looking out over his kingdom.
I settle beside him, leaving a little distance between us.
He closes the gap quickly, his smile soft and warm as he places his hand on my thigh again.
“Are you liking the movie?” he finally asks.
“It’s okay,” I say, thinking I haven’t even been paying enough attention to remember what it is we’re watching. Some geopolitical thriller with Ben Affleck.
“Thrillers not your thing?” he ventures.
I shake my head, unable to form words as I think about Savannah’s name written on that check stub.
I’m about to stand and tell him it’s time for me to be going when Matt turns to me, sliding a palm up to my neck and pulling me to him for a soft kiss. I submit to him easily, our lips moving together in a tender moment before his hands traildown to my waist, thumbs grazing the underside of my breasts. He tries to pull me into his lap but I resist before pulling away and smiling softly. “I’m sorry, I... I’m just not ready. I like spending time with you but I’d like to take things slow.”
Disappointment darkens his eyes before his jaw tightens. “If you’re not ready, why did you wear that tight dress yesterday that left nothing to the imagination? You all about the tease?”
Nerves tighten in my throat and prevent words from escaping. I shake my head, unable to say anything. “Why did you agree to come to my apartment if you didn’t want to fuck me?”
“I—I—” I don’t know what to say, so I scoot away and stand, but he grips my wrist and pulls me back on the sofa with him.
“Come on, El—don’t be a dick tease.”
