“Stop standing there looking at me and sit so that we can have breakfast. I don’t have time for delays this morning; I have a meeting soon.”
I could come up with endless ways to cause this jackass delays, but my stomach is pleading with me to save it for another time. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.
He pushes my chair under me as I sit and then takes the seat across from me. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I had the kitchen staff prepare a little bit of everything.”
I sit motionless and watch him pour a cup of coffee. “I only drink the best Kona.” He holds up the carafe once his cup is full. “Would you care for some?”
I’m not really a coffee drinker, but there’s steam coming from the spout. It’s possible that I can toss the burning hot liquid on him and make a run for the door. “Yes, please.”
I turn over my coffee cup, and he fills it.
“Creamer?”
The creamer will cool the temperature of the coffee. “I take mine black.”
“Me too.”
He nods in the direction of the food. “Go ahead. Ladies first.”
I fill my plate with pancakes, sausage, bacon, hash browns, eggs—twice the amount that I would normally eat. And I’m not the least bit ashamed.
He sips his hot coffee and watches as I stuff a huge bite of pancakes drenched with maple syrup into my mouth. “I’m happy to see that you have an appetite.”
I cover my mouth with my hand when I reply. “Yesterday’s lunch was a long time ago.”
“I assumed that you’d had dinner when you declined my offer for food last night.”
“I don’t eat before I gamble.”
He smiles. “You get nervous?”
“Pfft.” I chuckle. “You think thatIget nervous?”
I actually am on edge the entire time. Especially when a pit boss lingers at my table for too long. But that’s not the reason that I don’t eat.
“If not nerves, then what reason?”
I place my hand on top of my stomach. “Can’t come into a casino in a tight dress with my belly bloated. That’s not an attractive look. And part of my MO is looking my best.”
“You’re gorgeous. Sitting there with dripping wet hair and no makeup, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I stop eating and look at him, saying nothing. Because I don’t know how to reply. I can’t decide if he’s serious or not. And if he isn’t, what is his motive for telling me something like that?
“It isn’t often that I tell a woman that she’s beautiful.” His brows scrunch. “In fact, I can’t remember ever doing so.”
I think that he’s full of shit. I can’t be the first woman that he’s ever said that to.
“It’s your turn now to thank me for the lovely compliment.”
He flatters me and then demands gratitude for doing so. What a jerk.
“Thank you.” My voice is robotic.
“Thank you…Sir.” His brow lifts when he says the last word.
This asshole wants me to call himSir?
Not just no.
