I almost smile. Good girl.
I put my hand protectively at her elbow and lead her out. And for the first time in ages, something that seems like warmth and affection ripples through me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Angelika
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I say as Tolyan and I get settled inside his SUV. It was satisfying to stand up to Eric, but Tolyan didn’t have to see the embarrassing spectacle.
“I’m not,” he says, maneuvering the car out of the garage. “I’m glad I was there to make sure he didn’t get too aggressive. He had no excuse putting his hands on you the way he did.”
“It was just a finger.” Given Tolyan’s attitude, he might be upset he didn’t step in sooner to do something about Eric, like before he touched me.
“It’s easy for a finger to turn into a fist.”
“Maybe so, but… I don’t think Eric has the kind of temperament that would let him really turn him violent in front of people.” He’s more the type to rant and rave and Tweet crap about me.
Tolyan doesn’t respond, which I suspect means he agrees with my assessment.
“By the way, I want to thank you for the opportunity at the foundation. I got the internship!”
“Yes, I saw your memo. Congratulations. We should celebrate.” There’s actually a small bit of warmth in his tone when he says “celebrate.”
My heart flutters like a high school girl being asked out to prom by her crush. “Um. What’s a safe activity?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well. You know, given my circumstances, certain things might be a little too…risky.”
“Shouldn’t be an issue.” A corner of his mouth quirks upward. “You’re cooperative enough.”
“No need to make it harder for you to keep me safe.”
He flashes a quick smile, and it’s mesmerizing. It changes his demeanor completely, puts a light in his eyes so that they shine like precious stones, and softens his face to the point that he—wonder of wonders—looks approachable. “You should smile more,” I blurt out.
His eyebrow arches. “I smile.” There’s a pause. “When needed.”
“No, I mean just because you’re happy.”
He considers for a second. “I suppose I’m happy that you’re being cooperative.”
I shake my head. He’s either being purposely obtuse or he just doesn’t get it. Regardless, it’s probably a big deal. He’s generally so stoic and flat, he probably needs to remind himself how to smile before he actually does it.
“Are you allergic to seafood?” he asks.
“No. I love seafood.” I haven’t had any in a long time because good seafood is expensive, and bad seafood is awful. I got food poisoning once from some shrimp when I was in high school and missed half a week of classes. Never again.
“Good.”
He stops the car in front of a place called La Mer. A uniformed valet approaches to take the SUV. There are other cars around, many of them fancy, European and expensive. They shine like polished gems.
Tolyan puts his hand on my elbow like he did when we left Coffee Heaven. A sharply dressed hostess greets us as we walk in. She’s what I always envisioned a native Californian might look like—blonde, sun-kissed skin and a bright white smile.
“Tolyan, how are you?” she says.
“Good.”
“Your table’s ready. This way.” She leads us inside.