Did she even need to ask?
“I understand if you want to be alone—”
I kicked the chair under the table so it slid back. “Sit.”
She set the tray down then sat across from me, wearing skintight yoga pants and a loose sweater she liked to wear around the house. Her hair framed her face perfectly with smooth strands, and she didn’t wear makeup because she probably expected to go to sleep soon.
But I still thought she was stunning. Maybe it was because I hadn’t seen her in so long that I’d forgotten how beautiful she was, how much I wanted her, how lonely I felt being next door to the woman I loved.
I poured her a glass of wine.
She mouthed “Thank you” and pulled the glass closer to her.
Now I didn’t have an appetite. All I could do was focus on the woman across from me. My heart palpitated with a distinct rush. My fingertips felt numb. My breathing changed. Maybe on the outside, I looked completely calm, but underneath, I felt a hailstorm of sensations.
“What are you working on?” She glanced at my laptop.
I closed it and pushed it to the side. “Bank stuff.”
“I remember you used to work from home a lot.”
“I’m a workaholic.”
“With two jobs, that’s not surprising.” She cut into her meat and took a few bites. Her eyes were downcast most of the time, and her posture was relaxed even though it’d been days since we’d seen each other.
I grabbed my fork and continued to eat, elbows on the table because I didn’t give a shit. Patricia had picked a subtle white wine to go with the chicken, creating another delicious meal that I took for granted…like all other things.
“Where did you find Patricia?” she asked. “She’s the best chef ever.”
“She went to culinary school in Paris. She worked in a bakery for a few years in Greece, but then her husband died.”
“She didn’t want to stay?”
I shrugged. “No. She said the memories were too painful.”
“Oh…that’s too bad.”
“I think she sees me as a son—or something like that. She picks up all my laundry off the floor, makes my bed, cooks my meals… I think she enjoys it.”
She chuckled. “No woman enjoys picking up your underwear off the floor.”
I paused before I took a bite, smiling slightly at her joke. “That’s not what she tells me.”
“Because you pay her.”
“Touché.” I grabbed a piece of asparagus and bit the tip off the stem. “How are you? I haven’t seen you much.” I expected Liam to confront me at the bank every day, but he never showed his face. Hitting me at the same place twice was stupid because I was expecting it. Or maybe he assumed I would assume that…so I wouldn’t expect it. In this game, you had to anticipate everything.
She turned melancholy at the question. “I’ve been spending most of my time in my room. There’s a nice tub in there, and Patricia always has the fire going the second I get home from work. The food is great, way better than room service at the Tuscan Rose…” She suddenly looked embarrassed. “Don’t tell Sofia I said that. And the space is really comfortable. So, I’ve been fine.”
“I didn’t ask how you’re enjoying your stay at Hotel Damien. I asked how you are doing.”
She started to push her food around with her fork, her eyes downcast for a moment. “I’m stressed, to be honest.”
“Has he called you?”
“No. That’s why I’m worried.”
“Maybe he’s cooled off.”
She gave a sarcastic chuckle. “That man never cools off. Does that mean you haven’t heard from him?”
I gave a slight shake of my head. “Maybe his injury has forced him to recuperate.”
She gave a slight nod. “Yeah… He told me you shot him.” We’d never actually discussed the event.
“I had no other choice. He took my car hostage so I couldn’t get out of there.”
“I know. I’m not upset about it.”
“Because if I wanted to shoot to kill, my aim would have been different.” I shot him in a fleshy part of his arm, away from the bones, away from the arteries, barely grazing his flesh.
She pulled her gaze away. “I know, Damien.” Her silverware slightly cut into the plate, the gentle tapping of metal against china. She cut her food into small bites because she had a petite mouth, but she could fit my big cock in there, so she could take bigger bites if she wanted to.
I ate in silence, watching her while she avoided my gaze. We had a meal together like two friends, even though we’d never felt like friends. “I’ve been thinking about this…”
She looked up as she sliced off a piece of meat.
“You shouldn’t go into the Tuscan Rose anymore.”
The knife made a squeaky sound against the plate as she lost control of the utensil. “What?”