“We couldn’t talk freely in a restaurant full of people?” I asked, taking a slow sip of the wine. I typically preferred white wine, but the red was surprisingly good and I savored the bite of the bold flavor on my tongue.
“Unfortunately, no – at least not without any interruption. I try to keep a low profile, but restaurants are tough. I have expensive tastes and influential people tend to frequent the restaurants that I like.” He paused and frowned, his brow furrowing in aggravation. “Lately, it’s been a bombardment of parasites from Wall Street trying to convince me to go public. The lack of privacy is rather annoying.”
While his words may have seemed slightly arrogant, his tone was bitter and resentful. I was intrigued and wanted to question him further, but Matteo arrived with our appetizers, interrupting the conversation.
“Ah, here we are!” Matteo said as he placed two plates in the center of the table. “Insalata Caprese and Antipasto Italiano.” Using a serving fork, he began to place portions of the appetizers onto side dishes for both Alexander and I.
“This looks great. Thanks, Matt,” Alexander said, taking a bite of smoked prosciutto. “Mmm. It tastes great, too.”
I went for the Caprese Salad first, fresh mozzarella being a weakness of mine. The cheese practically melted in my mouth and the tomato was bursting with flavor. I nodded my head in approval.
“Very good!” Matteo exclaimed, obviously pleased that his guests of honor were enjoying the first course. “Buon appetito,” he said with a slight bow and left us to enjoy the array of cold cuts and cheeses.
“I don’t know much about the stock market, but wouldn’t you make more money if you went public with your company?” I asked curiously, continuing the conversation where we left off as I enjoyed a second bite of the seasoned cheese.
“Money doesn’t matter. I’d rather be my own boss. If I offered stock to the general public, then I would have too many people to answer to. And as you pointed out earlier this afternoon, answering to others is not something that I would do well. I prefer to be my own boss.”
“It must really suck to be a millionaire,” I sarcastically commented.
“Billionaire, Krystina,” he corrected matter-of-factly. I raised my eyebrows, slightly aghast by his pompous statement.
“If you’re trying to impress me, it’s not working. Millions, billions – it makes no difference to me once you hit six zeros,” I said sardonically.
“I’m not trying to impress you with money. I’m just stating a fact,” he said without a hint of conceit. “Those additional zeros, as you put it, make a big difference in the social circles of New York. It means that keeping my personal affairs private is a little more difficult, and that’s something I’m not sure you’re ready to handle.”
Maybe I was intimidated over his billions. Or perhaps it was the way he spoke so matter-of-factly. Whatever the reason, I found myself feeling extremely bothered by this conversation all of a sudden and I pursed my lips in annoyance.
“Why would I need to concern myself with your privacy?”
“We’ll talk about that later,” he said, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand. “I want you tell me about yourself first.”
“I’m sure my background check told you everything you need to know already,” I said fractiously.
“Krystina, the background check that I had done on you was very limited. It doesn’t tell me personal aspects of your life.”
The seconds ticked by as I scrutinized him, trying to find any sign of a hidden agenda. His face revealed nothing but patience and genuine interest. He didn’t push me, but instead just ate his antipasti quietly while he waited for me to speak.
I had to admit to myself, I was actually enjoying this very normal back and forth chitchat that we had going on. It was a nice change from all of our previous conversations. I supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to let go of a few minor irritations and indulge in his curiosities a little bit.
“Alright. What do you want to know?” I finally gave in.
“Why don’t you start with where you grew up?”
Interesting question.
I wasn’t sure what I expected him to ask, but it certainly wasn’t that.
“I was raised in Albany – the Clifton Park area to be exact, but nobody ever knows where that is. I lived there with my mother and stepfather until moving to New York with Allyson to attend college.”
“Who’s Allyson?”
“Allyson Ramsey, my roommate,” I told him. “My mom didn’t want me to move here, but I fought her tooth and nail. She wanted me to go to school someplace in Albany.”
“What’s wrong with New York?” he prodded.
“Oh, lots of things. Safety, the cost of tuition, New York is expensive – you name it and she made it an argument. But I don’t think any of those things were the real reasons behind her not wanting me to move here. To be honest, I don’t think she wanted to cut the strings,” I said with a shake of my head. “I’m an only child and I was her whole world for a long time. But that was years ago and what I think is irrelevant, because she would never admit it. My mother has a way of blocking out things that she doesn’t want to remember.”
“Mothers can certainly be that way,” he agreed. I sensed a level of irony in his tone, and I wondered what his story was.
“What about your parents?” I asked, hoping to gain a bit of insight.
“They’re dead,” he responded flatly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
His lack of emotion was startling and I was taken aback. My apology for his deceased parents was an automatic reaction, one that anyone would have. But his expression was cold. Emotionless. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes, but it was quickly masked and I could only stare in wonder at his complete detachment.
Well, this is awkward. He’s not sorry that his mother and father are dead! Who says things like that?
Matteo arrived with our dinner, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the room.
“Time for the main course. For you my dear, Baked Eggplant Parmigiana, one of my specialties,” Matteo bragged, setting a steaming plate before me and turning to Alexander. “And for you my friend, Stuffed Red Pepper. Delizioso!”
“I’m sure both will be fantastic, Matt. Thanks,” Alexander said somewhat coolly.
Matteo eyed him questioningly, but didn’t comment on Alexander’s tone. Instead, he simply nodded and left us alone to enjoy our food. Once he was out of the room, the uneasiness between Alexander and I returned.
I was itching to know more about his dead parents, but I didn’t know what I could say without sounding like I was prying. His blunt statement was perplexing. So rather than risk putting my foot in my mouth, I just ate my food and said nothing. I was probably better off not knowing the specifics anyway.
It’s not my business. Curiosity killed the cat. More detail means an increased risk of attachment. Time to change the subject.
I sat there pondering over what else we could talk about. The atmosphere had become so uncomfortable after his revelation, that I wasn’t sure where to begin. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I actually knew Alexander. The only thing I had to go on were a few tidbits that I read on the internet. He was a mystery, and I grappled with finding a safe topic of discussion.
I could bring up the reason I’m actually here. We haven’t talked about that yet.
My brow furrowed in concentration.
So why am I here?
He had said in the coffee shop that he wanted me naked, yet he had been nothing but a polite gentleman since my arrival. There were no sexual insinuations, no coy remarks. Nothing. Surprisingly, I found myself disappointed and frustrated by his mannerly attitude. He wasn’t playing his usual part.
“You’ve become very quiet, Krystina,” Alexander commented after a long while. I glanced up at him to find that he was watching me cu
riously. “I can tell that you’re thinking something. I can almost see the wheels spinning in your head.”
It’s time to cut to the chase.
I put my fork down next to my plate and leveled my eyes to his.
“Look, I’m fairly certain that you don’t want to talk about where I grew up or about your parents that – .”
“The subject of my parents is off limits. Never bring them up again,” he said frostily, stopping me midsentence.
Personal details are private. Got it.
“Okay, I can respect that. Besides, it’s probably better if we stopped playing show-and-tell. I want to get to the bottom of this supposed meeting, Alexander,” I said, deliberately dropping the formalities for the first time.
“You can call me Alex.”
“But that’s not your name,” I jokingly threw back in his face in an attempt to lighten the sudden somber mood. My efforts seemed to work because he afforded me a sexy lopsided grin.
“Touché,” he said with a wink, and reached over to pour us both more wine.
“Thank you,” I accepted graciously. Making a mental note to slow down, I didn’t take a sip of the refilled glass right away. A plan was starting to formulate in my head and I needed my wits about me if I was going to play this right.
“I think I was pretty clear this afternoon at the café, Krystina,” he said in response to my question.
It wasn’t really an answer at all, and I began to understand his polite behavior. I had a nagging suspicion that he was trying to feel me out.
Is he leaving it up to me to make the first move?
If that were truly the case, then it was very atypical for Alexander. He had told me himself – he likes to be in control. Putting the ball in my court was obviously not what he was doing.
I eyed him warily, trying to decide if I was ready to push our so-called relationship to the next level. He had already laid out his employment expectations. That part was perfectly clear. It was his other proposal that I needed to be careful of. Taking it slow was an absolute must, but I didn’t know if I had the gumption to take the plunge back into the world of dating.
If I take charge from the beginning, then maybe I can control the pace. I can do that. How hard can it be?
Throwing all caution to the wind, I swallowed a huge gulp of wine, took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
“Yes, you were very explicit as I recall. I b-believe you said something about…um…wanting me naked,” I faltered.
Epic fail. Could I have said that any more awkwardly? God, I suck at this.
“Is that going to be a problem for you?” he asked offhandedly.
Is it a problem?
His mouth quirked up in an impish smile and he looked like he was enjoying some sort of wicked thought.
“Well, um…” I started, pursing my lips in a frown trying to will away the flush the crept up my neck and threatened to enflame my cheeks. “What happens if I say that it is? Would I still get the job at Turning Stone?”
His eyes turned dark as I awaited his response. I held my breath in anticipation.
“Of course you would. I believe that you are more than qualified to handle the position. It would just be without the fringe benefits,” he added shamelessly. “However, I’m warning you now – I always get what I want. I will fuck you eventually, Krystina.”
He didn’t bother to disguise the determined glitter of lust in his eyes. I let out my breath in a quiet hiss.
Now there’s the Alexander that I’ve grown accustomed to.
His direct approach was crude and alluring all at the same time, leaving me squirming in my seat – and not because I was offended, but because it was so hot. An ache began to form between my thighs and the devil on my shoulder started doing fist pumps in the air.
Alexander allowed his gaze to drift lazily over me, causing excited butterflies to dance in my belly. I was thrilled that he was back to his normal, salacious self. But even so, I knew that I still had to be cautious. He was dangerous and I was like a moth to a flame. I had to gradually ease into this or risk being burned.
“Mixing business with pleasure is risky. What happens if things don’t work out with us personally?” I asked. “I don’t want to end up jobless and back to square one.”
“We’re both adults, Krystina. And as long as we keep it casual, I don’t think we’ll have an issue with managing our business dealings.”
“Well, I don’t do casual sex if that’s what you’re after. I think that two people should at least date a few times before jumping into bed,” I replied evenly, proud that I was able to keep the tremor out of my voice despite my racing heart.
“That’s very unfortunate,” he said, shaking his head back and forth.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t date, Krystina. It tends to complicate things that are much better off kept simple.”
Bullshit.
“Then explain the hundreds of red heads that you’re constantly being photographed with,” I spat out, just a little bit too harshly. It was a gut reaction, a defensive move based on instinct, and I fought the urge to slap a hand over my mouth. I heard the level of contempt in my voice and regretted it almost immediately.
This was not going the way that I had planned, even if I was just winging it. I was the one to start this line of conversation and being a bitch every time he said something that I didn’t like would get me nowhere.
“I must say that your own background check on me wasn’t very accurate,” he pointed out. His mouth twitched, like he was trying to hold back a smile.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have a slew of connected people on my payroll. I had to make do with my trusty friend Google,” I scoffed, although I was thoroughly embarrassed that my slip up had inadvertently revealed that I had researched him.
“You shouldn’t believe all the filth that can be found online,” he said, showing a hint of disgust beneath his calm demeanor. There was a cool gleam in his eyes and his jaw tightened. “The things you’ve seen or heard about me are based on pure speculation. I’m a wealthy man and I am expected to attend numerous functions, many of which require a date. I’m not sure if the two red heads you saw pictures of could classify as hundreds, but either way, they were mere acquaintances.”
“So you didn’t sleep with either of them?” I questioned doubtfully, not that it should matter one little iota. After all, I had already committed myself to no personal details. But those curvy red heads were definitely more than tempting with their come-hither smiles and I felt compelled to know the answer nonetheless.
“The answer to that is completely irrelevant, but I’ll indulge in your curiosities. No, I did not fuck either woman,” he openly admitted. His change of verbiage did little to help the trust factor. He must have sensed my disbelief because he let out a long sigh, and then adapted a more placating tone. “You can think what you want, but I have very little in common with those women. Their needs are very different from mine. I’m a man with a variety of sexual interests, Krystina. Knowing that about myself, I deliberately stay away from women that don’t share my desires and adhere to the rules that I’ve set for myself. There are no false pretenses that way.”
Rules?
I wasn’t that far removed from the dating scene. He made his sexual exploitations sound like business arrangements.
“You know what? Forget I even asked. You make it all sound so damned complicated,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“It’s not complicated at all – at least until I met you. For some odd reason, I find myself breaking many of my rules when it comes to you.”
“Such as?”
“Well, take tonight for example. I just told you that I don’t do the dating thing, yet here we are. This is, in many ways, like a date – and well out of the norm for me.”
“Is that why you keep referring to tonight as meeting? Dating isn’t in your rule book?” I asked tauntingly, rolling my eyes at him. “I mean, really. Even if you only go out w
ith someone once, you have to have some sort of relevant conversation before jumping into bed. That’s what defines a date. You can’t just walk up to a girl and say ‘hey baby, let’s fuck’. It doesn’t work like that.”
“Don’t be crude, Krystina.”
“My, my. Aren’t you the pot calling the kettle black?”
The right corner of his mouth twitched again, showing me that he was fighting back a smile. However, I wasn’t finding this conversation even remotely humorous. It was frustrating.
Scraping the last bit of food around on my plate, I processed everything that he had told me over dinner. The plan that I had begun to construct in my head was turning into a complete flop. This was never going to work. He had made so many mysterious implications tonight – rules, privacy, undefined sexual preferences. Every time I thought he was being forthright, he would say something that would throw me for a loop.
Am I really that naïve? What is he trying to tell me?
One thing was certain – if I wanted to explore this thing between us, whatever it might be, there would be no testing the waters first. But before I dived in head first, I needed some straight answers from him.
“Look, Alex. I’m not entirely sure why I decided to meet you tonight. The longer I sit here, the more I’m convinced that this is all a bad idea. So please, give it to me straight. What exactly do you want? And no more guessing games or else I walk,” I impatiently asserted.
His head snapped back and he sharply sucked in a breath. He almost looked as if I had offended him in some way. At that particular point, I didn’t care.
“Krystina, I’m disappointed at the fact that you think I’m playing games. I thought I was being honest. A little cautious maybe, but honest.” He cocked his head to one side, waiting for me to respond.
“What do you expect me to think?” I lashed out, shaking my head in frustration. “You asked me here to discuss a job, but we have yet to do so. You want me naked, yet you don’t date. You like to be in control and you have rules. You have made reference to having a variety of sexual interests – whatever the hell that means. To be perfectly honest, you’re leading me to believe that you’re some sort of freak in the sheets!”
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