“Can I suggest the fried mozzarella sticks,” Nathaniel beams. “They’re not dairy free, though.”
Simon looks at me. I nod. He orders the mozzarella sticks. The waiter leaves us alone, but his hand does not immediately return.
“What’s happened between us has been intense,” he says.
“You stalked me to my house. So. Yes. And you physically stopped me from leaving today. So there’s also that,” I respond. “I think I might technically have been kidnapped, but I’m not sure what I can do about it.”
He smiles at me with a kind of wicked indulgence that makes me feel warm on the inside. I know I am mixed up in something far beyond my control, and certainly beyond my comprehension. But when he smiles at me and there is warmth in his eyes, I feel an intense sense of having been chosen.
On the first day, which was only a few days ago, he was so cold, so arrogant. So absolutely unconcerned with being liked by me, or liking me. And now it’s different somehow.
“I like you,” he says, that little sentence echoing the warmth I feel emanating from him. “Actually, as I mentioned before, like is too small a word. And love is too soft a word. I crave you, Lydia. I want you in ways I have never wanted anybody. There is something inside you that calls to me.”
He’s sweet-talking me. He’s telling me the things every woman wants to hear. Most men compliment my eyes, or my ass. Simon’s taken my ass and is now telling me that he wants me for my soul.
This almost feels less real than the fact he has the ability to turn into at least half an animal. I feel the hair on the back of my neck standing upright in an intuitive sort of way. I am in danger.
I don’t know if he wants to hurt me, but I know that I am becoming vulnerable in ways I’ve never been before. It is scary to like someone. It is absolutely fucking terrifying to be wanted back.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I say, knowing that I am not really responding the proper way. I’m supposed to swoon, probably. I’m supposed to turn my brain off and just let him have his way with me.
But he’s a monster, and I am stuck in a job that won’t let me go.
“Mozzarella sticks!” Nathaniel the waiter presents enough of the fried delicacy to sink a small ship on the table between us. “And bread!” he says, adding a basket of fresh bread that smells so good I don’t care if I’m being corporately kidnapped by a wolf monster.
I thank him, as does Simon, and I attack a roll with unladylike ferocity. I have been so hungry, I realize. But between running away and being hunted down and then taken out to dinner, with some work in between, I barely noticed that I hadn’t eaten.
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
“What for?”
The butter is just the right kind of cold. It holds together and stays cool enough to maintain a layer on the bread, but there’s a melty pool sinking into the pores as well. This might be the best thing I have ever eaten in my life bar nothing.
“For not ensuring you are properly looked after. You’ve been running like a scared animal. I’ve allowed you to become so stressed you tried to flee the city. There’s really no need for that. You’re safe.”
I don’t know about that, but I do know that the meal is delicious. We have steak, pasta, and lots of sides. It is all cooked to perfection, and for dessert, tiramisu. By the time I clear my plate, I am perfectly stuffed.
“I am allowed to travel,” I point out.
“Actually, you’re not. The contract you signed with the company prevents travel outside the city until the termination of the contract.”
“That cannot possibly be legal.”
He gives a slight shrug. “What’s legal these days? Anything anybody with enough money decides is legal.”
He’s right about that, but the fact he says it so easily and smoothly makes me uncomfortable. Simon is so immersed inthis world of billions of dollars and a complete lack of ethics. He does what he wants. He takes drugs he makes for himself. He fucks his technical writer when she walks in the door. He breaks into her home. My home. He fucking chases her down when she tries to… when I try to escape. I am disassociating mid-thought because of how creepy this all is.
“Is this dinner… to tell me that I can’t escape?”
“After all you’ve seen, after all the company knows you know… there is no leaving,” he says. “Think of it like the mafia.”
My blood runs cold. Thinking about anything like the mafia isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement for that thing. The mafia have a reputation for being fearless, ruthless, and lawless. Okay, so yes, it fits. I wonder if the part about not being able to get out alive is also true.
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
“I don’t want to scare you,” he says. “But I do want you to be informed.”
“Cheese?” Nathaniel pops up like an Irish springer spaniel, waving a menu that I just know has a whole host of cheeses on it. “Coffee?” He brandishes another menu. “Or more dessert?”
