Marlen grins and glances briefly at me with an expression that might be embarrassment.
“This is a good friend of mine, uh, Stef,” he says, clearly reluctant to give my name out.
“She is a beautiful one to keep, Mr. Popov. I will make for you the most romantic dinner, and you can impress the beautiful one,” Bartel winks again and then rushes away to the kitchen.
Marlen gestures again for me to sit, and this time I do, and he slides the chair in behind me.
Once he’s seated, I lean forward and whisper, “Where is Bartel from? I can’t place his accent.”
“He lived most of his life in Mexico, then moved from there to Scandinavia, and between the two, he learned English only by speaking to foreign customers who would come to his little food truck. I met him in Ukraine, and his food was so good that I helped him open this place. It’s so sought after that people have to book months in advance to get a seat at his table.”
“You helped him?” I narrow my eyes in disbelief.
“Yes, Stefania, I helped him,” Marlen says coldly, reminding me that even though we’ve been playful and maybe even flirting today, he’s still my captor and I should definitely be wary of him.
The food is incredible. Bartel brings out three courses, each with their own uniqueness, drawing flavors from his travels and experiences. I can see why Marlen fell in love with his food and helped him with this place. He deserves to be celebrated. He has an incredible gift.
During the meal, I slip away to the bathroom, surprised when Marlen doesn’t insist on following me. It’s the first time all day I’ve been alone.
The first time I go, I really need to pee, so I don’t have much time to look around, but the idea is already set in my mind.
The second time I go, I do a quick, hurried search as fast as I can, but just as I’m about to go down a back passage, I hear Marlen calling my name and return to the table.
After dinner and a cup of Scandinavian coffee, I tell Marlen I need to go to the ladies’ room again. He eyes me with suspicion, but nods. This is my last chance. It’s now or never.
As soon as I’m out of his sight, I bolt down the passage looking for a back door. There isn’t one. Maybe on the other side. I run back and past the ladies’ room, searching, rushed, my anxiety high.
“Stefania?” I hear him call my name. But I can’t give up now.
Ignoring him, I run into the ladies’ room to see if maybe I can reach the high window that I shrugged off earlier. In one of the stalls, I stand on the toilet seat and try to reach for it, but it’s not good, and I almost slip right off and fall on my face when I hear the bathroom door opening and Marlen calling my name again.
“Stef?” he sounds tense.
“I’m in here,” I say quietly.
“What is going on?” he asks sternly.
I push the door open and walk out, holding my stomach. “Sorry, um, something isn’t agreeing with me and I um, my tummy hurts,” I mutter.
“Oh, oh no, ok, let’s get you home then. I have something in my medicine cabinet to settle your stomach, and I can make you some peppermint tea,” he says, wrapping his hand aroundmy back and gently coaxing me out of the bathroom. He calls out to Bartel to thank him and then takes me down to the car, opening the door for me and easing me into the seat with a gentleness that comes out of nowhere.
“Shame, Stef, you’re very quiet,” he says, reaching across the car and placing his hand on my thigh as we drive through the city. In all honestly, I’m still shocked that this man knows anything about how peppermint tea helps nausea, and I haven’t said a damn word since we left the bathroom.Who is this guy?Offering peppermint tea, being incredibly gentle, his soothing voice and attentive nature… this isn’t Marlen. What the hell is going on?It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone.
“I… I um…” I’m confused. And relieved that he didn’t catch me trying to escape, but more confused than relieved.
“It’s ok, it’s not a long drive. I’m sure the car isn’t helping. You can climb straight into bed or curl up on the sofa at home.”
I stare at him in disbelief. Did an alien come down and possess his brain or something?
Choosing to roll with it, I gently rub my tummy and smile tightly. “Thank you, I’m sure it’ll go away quickly enough. Sorry to be such a pain and make you rush out of there.”
He turns to smile at me. “Of course not, if you’re not feeling well, it’s not your fault.”
At home, things escalate.
Marlen is so gentle with me as he tucks a blanket around my legs and sets the tea on the table next to the sofa I’m curled up on. His touch is electrifying me, and this new, utterly unexpected version of him is making my head spin.
He’s leaning right over me, puffing out the pillow behind my back when our cheeks brush against each other, and hepauses, stiffening. He leans back a little, looking into my eyes and making my heart spin uncontrollably. My lips part unconsciously, and I take in a soft breath as Marlen reaches up and brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face and gently tucks it behind my ear. His eyes pierce into mine and then slowly drift down to my lips.
