by R. J. Lewis
Oh jeez, talk about impressing a woman.
“I’m not sure I want to know how much you would have had to pay then. Judging by the price of these meals too, I’m a little speechless.”
“Relax,” he soothingly said on a wink that made it to both eyes. “You pick whatever grabs you, Emma. I’m more than happy to spend a fortune if it means being around someone as beautiful as you.”
I should have blushed but…no, I didn’t. Truth was, I was wary. How many men had tried to smooth talk me before, and how many of them did it with a single mission to get in between my legs?
We waited a while for our meals, and I tried my hardest to stare dreamily into the eyes of the man that clearly had the ability to sweep a woman off her feet, but I didn’t feel anything inside of me. No butterflies, no warmth, no curiosity. Instead, it was that stretch of awkward silence you sometimes get trapped in, like when you make a mistake by opening the door to a religious person, or a salesman, and you have no choice but to endure ten minutes of awkward chatting and you pretend to give a shit before finding an excuse to escape into your house and cringe like a motherfucker.
Yeah, it was like that.
When our meals finally did arrive, I tried to suppress my desire to hump the table and binge my face off at the seafood special I’d ordered. Holy fuck, I hadn’t had oysters in over a year, or scallops in even longer than that! This was a meal I had to savour every smell and taste of because at this rate, going out to dinner with Joel was going to be a one-time thing.
“Your grandmother was telling me you were studying business at one point,” he then said, working his way into a conversation.
I nodded. “I settled for my bookkeeping diploma in the end. Took me two years because of the expenses. Having an education is beyond expensive nowadays. And there aren’t many jobs around here anymore, so I’m currently stuck at my waitressing job, which is actually great.”
“New Raven has certainly picked up. I think it’ll be a while before the jobs start catching up to the people. You know, I could see you working someplace like this. Think of the tips.”
I almost laughed. “Oh yeah? I think I live too far at the moment. But it would be pretty cool.”
More silence.
His eyes were pinned to my face, and it was a little disconcerting to be stared at so blatantly. Yet, despite this, I felt like there was another pair of eyes on me. I glanced around the restaurant, convinced I was being overly paranoid to think those eyes belonged to a man I was admittedly spending my time online reading about.
Too much time.
Like, too much.
“So how was my grandmother anyhow?” I asked, focusing back to Joel. “I hope she didn’t force this on you.”
He laughed lightly and shook his head. “No, she didn’t force it on me. She showed me a photo of you and I couldn’t say no. I’ll admit she’s a very intense woman, isn’t she?”
“Intense would be one of the defining qualities of my grandmother,” I agreed, chuckling.
We spoke for a while longer. He told me he’d applied for two jobs, one as a prison doctor and the other at the clinic Granny went to. Of course, he got the latter job, which he wasn’t entirely satisfied with.
“The New Raven Prison is pretty infamous for its violent prisoners, so I wouldn’t be too upset about missing out on that,” I consoled him.
He shrugged. “Yeah, but the experience would have been great. You know, you can drive right up to it if you wanted to. Middle of nowhere, that place. Did you hear about the man that escaped there once four years ago?”
“No. I didn’t realize there was a successful escape.”
“Well, it wasn’t successful,” he heartily explained. “They found him ten kilometres out. He died of dehydration, and the only reason they found him was because of all the crows circling overhead. They’d eaten almost all of him up and could only identify him with a few body parts, like fingers and such.”
I shuddered in disgust. “That… sucks for him.”
“I should take you there one day.”
Wryly, I raised a brow. “A tour around a prison?”
“It’s very fortified and impressive if you’re into the architectural side of things. I’ve been there five times and it never gets old. I especially like to drive around the area the man was found. There’s something very eerie and alluring about being around a place you know someone’s died in. Like being one with nature.”
Um.
Well… this was a weird thing to talk about, and it was a little creepy how excited he was about it. My non-attraction levels took an even bigger nose dive, especially when I spotted the twinkle in his eye about visiting it. Things had been going kind of bearably well too. Now I was dining with a doctor that had a weird prison fetish and sounded like he’d inhaled ten helium balloons. Could those eyes shine any brighter?
A waitress appeared once more, asking how we were doing. Joel requested another refill of his wine and she left. I stared down at my food, hoping he’d find something else to talk about.
“There are others who’ve died at the prison, too,” he carried on, squandering my hopes. “Some in the cells, but they don’t allow visitors inside there, unfortunately.”
What the fuck? “Shame.”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
I ran a hand through my hair and glanced around the restaurant again, feeling glummer by the minute. There would be no salvaging this. I was going to die a spinster with cobwebs feasting on my vagina, I just knew it.
Then the waitress returned and leaned over the table to fill his glass. I didn’t catch it properly from the corner of my eye, but I heard a gasp escape out of her, and by the time I looked, the wine glass had already tipped from near the edge of the table and spilled over Joel’s clothes. He hissed, as though he’d been burned by boiling water, and immediately backed his chair up.
“Are you fucking serious?” he growled out, abruptly jumping to his feet, dabbing at the wine on his dress shirt with his hands.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” the waitress apologized, looking horrified as she immediately set the bottle down and grabbed at his napkin. “I’m so sorry!”
“Sorry? That’s what you have to say? How fucking hard is it to pour a glass of wine, woman? Do you have two left feet? This is ridiculous!”
When she neared him to help him dry it off, he snarled at her and snatched the napkin from her hand. Once again, he overlooked her apologies and went on with his tirade.
“Do you know how expensive this shirt is? Or these pants? Have you the faintest fucking clue? I’m not made of money!”
The waitress shrunk back, her slender frame shuddering at his sudden rage. I was bewildered for a moment, glancing between them with a deer in the headlights look before I eventually shook it off.
“It’s fine,” I immediately told her with a soft look before glaring back at Joel. “It was a mistake, Joel –”
“I understand it was a mistake,” he interrupted sharply, practically spitting out the words as he dried himself off with that angry look on his face. “But it was an expensive mistake. I want to speak to the owner, right now. Or a manager. Or somebody that’s in charge of you.”
The waitress hesitated. “He won’t… he won’t like it if I bother him.”
Joel gave her an icy look. “I don’t care if he won’t like it. I’m the customer. I’m the one paying for this meal. It’s not my problem if you’re bothering him. Just get him.”
She turned away and hurried out of view, leaving me shocked by this man’s absurd overreaction. He took his seat, cursing quietly under his breath as he threw the napkin down on the table.
“I’m not being unreasonable,” he told me, catching my irritation. “But everything in life costs money, Emma. She shouldn’t get away with something like this all because she made a mistake.”
I raised a brow. “What are you expecting to happen right now?”
“I expect to be compensated. I expe
ct not to have to pay for this meal, either. I expect she’ll be dealt with accordingly.”
“And how do you think she should be dealt with?”
“I’d fire her if she were my employee.”
My mouth dropped but I refrained from using colourful language. Truth was, I was outraged, probably more so than him, and it wasn’t about the damn wine spilling on his fucking stupid, ugly suit, either. It was knowing what it was like to be on the receiving end of bastards like him. I’d had a few run-ins with shitty customers trying to make me feel little and pathetic, but this… this was just despicable. I was tempted to shove my plate aside and leave Dr Obsessed-With-Death behind, but I didn’t want the waitress fired, and I’d vouch for her if I had to when the owner arrived.
It was the sudden silence that tore me out of my angry thoughts. Then, footsteps could be heard, growing louder and closer as the seconds passed. I saw the waitress first, slinking feet behind a suited man that had his hands in his pockets as he strode to us. Everything about him screamed strength and confidence and familiarity too. I swallowed hard as my eyes looked up that marvellously hard body and into the solemn face of Borden.
Fuck. Fuck. Would I ever escape this man?
He didn’t even acknowledge me as he stopped at the table, his gaze focused on Joel.
“What’s the problem?” he demanded, cutting straight to the point.
Joel’s eyes had widened at the sight of Borden. He was just as surprised as me. We were probably thinking the same thing. Since when did Borden own this restaurant on top of all the other places he had?
“There’s no problem,” I suddenly said, drawing his attention for a quick moment.
“I’m not talking to you, doll,” Borden replied, pointing to Joel. “I’m talking to the doctor here.”
Joel straightened himself and motioned to the waitress and then to his red stained shirt. “There was an incident.”
Borden’s eyes didn’t travel to his shirt. He kept them firmly directed to Joel’s face instead as he gritted out, “Explain.”
“She spilled wine on me, some of it’s on my food, too.”
“So what do you want?”
Joel paused, clearly taken aback by the question. It was fairly obvious what he wanted, but I supposed he hadn’t anticipated actually having to say it. “I’d like some compensation, at least. It was a four hundred dollar shirt, Mr Borden.”
My breath had thinned at the exchange of words. Everything felt tense and unsteady, like we were balancing on a thread and a single snap would send us into peril. Borden was indecipherable, his gaze rock hard in place, while Joel tried his best to appear as assertive and cool as possible. He was failing. I could see the beads of sweat begin to form at his temple, and what was made worse was we had the attention of the entire restaurant. Faces were turned in our direction, silently observing a man pretty much asking Borden to hand him four hundred fucking dollars.
Borden stared at Joel for several moments. Then, he pulled out a wallet from his pocket and opened it. My mouth dropped again in shock as Borden slowly produced one hundred dollar bill after the other, all the while levelling Joel with a stare that reminded me of how intimidating he was at the club and diner. He was scary. Fuck, he could possibly be the scariest man ever to grace my life. So why the fuck did my insides warm at that? Why did fear suddenly feel so arousing?
Joel relaxed in his seat, his mouth perking up just a tad as he watched the four bills leave Borden’s wallet. But Borden didn’t hand the money over. Instead, he tore his eyes from Joel and glanced back at the waitress standing behind him. He motioned her over, and she hesitantly obeyed. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he brought her to his side and slowly shoved the four hundred dollar bills down her top, nestling them into her bra.
“Go,” he then demanded.
With wide eyes, she turned away and hurried to the back of the restaurant. Borden turned back to Joel.
“Now let’s take care of that problem of yours,” he told him.
I nearly jumped as Hawke suddenly emerged from behind Joel. I’d been so consumed in Borden, I hadn’t realized we were surrounded by Borden’s men. Hawke took him by the arm and shoved him up to his feet, forcing him steady. Not a second went by before his suit jacket was violently pulled off and the buttons of Joel’s shirt went flying. It took Hawke seconds before it was completely off of him and thrown languidly on the floor by his feet.
“There,” Borden muttered, tilting his head at the piece of fabric. “No shirt, no problem.”
Joel’s eyes were wide as saucers. “But…she spilled wine on me! This wasn’t my fault!”
“She spilled wine on you and in return you treated her like shit,” Borden snapped back, his nostrils flaring. “She’s my employee, an asset to my business, and you walked all over that asset. Therefore, you walked all over me.”
Joel’s face reddened as he stood there for several moments, in nothing but his suit pants and undershirt on. He caught the look of all the diners around us, and that face grew redder.
“Joel,” I whispered to him urgently, leaning over the table, “just apologize.”
“Apologize?” he repeated in shock. “I didn’t do anything! This man’s the lunatic!”
I winced and shut my eyes. Dear God, what the hell had he done? Was he looking for a death wish?
“Lunatic?” Borden repeated carefully.
Joel didn’t reply. I could see it was beginning to dawn on him just how much he had fucked up. He glanced around the men again, this time looking more scared by the minute.
“I’m a lunatic, is that what you’re saying?” Borden asked, those eyes burning holes through the man.
“We should go now,” I told Joel just then.
“I agree,” Borden cut in coolly. “Here, let me help you.”
He went to him and abruptly grabbed Joel by the shirt, shoving him back against the table. Our glasses tipped and spilled over our food. Even though Joel was near Borden’s height, he didn’t have his mass. Fear shone in Joel’s face, and I knew there would be no way to get out of this without Borden getting his way.
“A man dines in my restaurant, eats my food, insults my waitress, and has the audacity to call me a lunatic,” Borden stated loudly to everyone at their tables.
I stood up, helplessly watching the situation unfold in stunned silence. Everyone was staring in awe as Borden then dragged him to the entrance of the restaurant gripping the back of his neck. I snapped out of my trance and raced after them, stumbling a bit in my heels along the way.
By the time they were outside, Borden threw Joel effortlessly onto the pavement. He landed with a big thud on his side, grunting in pain as his flesh scraped against the sidewalk. But instead of leaving him, Borden approached him again.
“Stop,” I yelled hysterically. “No more! We’re going!”
Borden ignored me and threw his suit jacket off. He began rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, staring gravely at Joel. “You call me a lunatic and I’ll show you what a lunatic is,” he said, raising his voice no further than usual.
He bent down, grabbed Joel and stood him back on his feet. The doctor was too dazed to know what was going on.
“Call me a lunatic again. Go on.”
Joel shook his head pleadingly. “I didn’t mean –”
Borden interrupted him with a punch across the face. Blood flowed freely out of Joel’s nose as he fell back.
“Call me a lunatic again,” he repeated through clenched teeth, standing over his mangled body, looking deceptively calm. “Go on.”
He went to grab at him again, and all at once my anger swept me out of my stiff stance. I ran to him and grabbed his shoulder, screaming into his ear.
“Just leave him alone. Let go of him!” I screamed, looking up at the passerbys as they slowed. “Someone, stop him! Help!”
Nobody would help.
Without caring who he was, I frantically grabbed at his arm and stood between him and Joel. Borden went t
o move past me, but I forced myself in his way, pleading for him to stop.
Joel’s face was a bloody mess after just one punch and Borden would be going for another blow. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Leave him alone,” I told him, and without thinking, I grabbed his face with both my hands, trying to turn it to me.
“Look at me!” I said angrily, moving my face so that I was only a few inches away from his. He’d have no choice but to look at me now.
Borden’s blue eyes flickered for a moment to mine, then to Joel on the ground, and then to mine again.
“Look at me. Borden.”
He was clearly not expecting this. His wild eyes looked over my face for a long moment and he shook his head a bit, as if he was being roused from a dream.
“Look at me.”
His face relaxed a little.
“Leave him alone,” I said, maintaining full eye contact so that he wouldn’t fly off the handle again. “Leave him alone, Borden. He was an asshole, I know. He was being horrible and the waitress didn’t deserve that, but it’s done now. Just leave him alone. Hell, let’s talk about it. Just you and me. We’ll sort it out. I-I can talk for him and we’ll sort it out but just… don’t hurt him. Okay? You’ve done enough.”
He didn’t move for what felt like an eternity. His gaze travelled to my mouth, lingering there for several seconds. Abruptly, he turned away from Joel and I brought my hands down now that I had his full attention. His eyes never strayed from mine and it took everything in me not to look away. He was so fucking intimidating, it was unnatural. If I’d had a shred of rationality left, I’d have been shaking in my heels.
I startled when his hand rose up to my face. I suppressed a shiver and felt his fingers briefly moving along my jawline and over my bottom lip. That puzzled expression from before on his face. Then he dropped his hand down.
“Be at my table in five minutes,” he told me.
He turned away from me and casually picked up his suit jacket from off the ground. He headed back into the restaurant without so much a glance in my direction, his body relaxed and unaffected. I looked around and saw at least a few dozen people crowding the pavement around us, gawking at me with bewildered expressions. Yeah, they were probably wondering the same thing I was: what the fuck was that all about?