I force myself to nod. "Nice brownstone."
"What do you think about saunas?"
I stare at him. "Excuse me? I don't... except that one in Burger King in Scandinavia. But on the whole, no."
"I have one. Was thinking about getting a hot tub for the terrace in the back. What do you think? Do you like hot tubs? Or maybe you're more of a pool girl?" His voice is silky soft and suggestive.
I take a step back.
He rubs his chin as he takes a step forward. "I dropped by my father's townhouse he sometimes uses in Manhattan. It is often for guests, but I was thinking of talking Dad intoletting my sister use it. Get her a nanny-type person when I'm not around next year."
My pulse is leaping. "Nanny? How old is she?"
"Fifteen. It is more a bodyguard. A spy, you know what I mean."
Why is he telling me this?
Everything buzzes in me, like I will get shocked if I touch anything.
I can't breathe, even as my senses scream at me to run.
But I'm facing him.
I need to get away.
"What?" My voice scratches out, and I?—
"See, when I was there..." he says, like his mouth is made of butter. Enzo clamps a hand on my wrist. "There was some very interesting footage from the security cameras. I can tell you I was very surprised. It was... Quite. The. Show."
Oh. God. Oh no. Please tell me this is a nightmare...
"Tell me, Lola. Do you often do that? Are you some kind of serial anti-thief who just strips down and climbs in swimming pools, taking filthy pictures of herself? No wonder you didn't want me to see your phone. Naughty girl." He leans in, lips touching my ear. "I think I will get a pool."
"Let me go. I have to go. I?—"
"Lola." He straightens and lets me go but moves so he blocks my exit.
And I would run, if I could move, I would run.
"I don't give a fuck. You do you. It was hot. Like that kiss."
My eyes blur, and I blink hard. "Oh, God, you're going to fire me. I'm sorry..."
He captures my chin. "Hey, Lola, sorry for what? Giving me a hard-on? And I'm not firing you. Like I said, you do you. Now, come on. Sit. I will pour you a whiskey."
Enzo lets me go and leads the way into another room, the living room.
And I collapse onto the sofa.
He goes to a bar and pours two drinks, pushing one into my hand and then sitting on the arm of the chair opposite. "Take a sip. It will help, I promise."
I do as he asks.
"Good. Now, what did you want to talk about?"
I gulp half my drink down. "Us."
"There's an us?" He smiles slowly at me, his amusement sliding over me like oil.
