Authors: Alice Tribue
“What is that supposed to mean?” I question, taking offense.
“People who don’t like to talk about themselves usually have a lot to hide.”
“What are you, an FBI profiler?” I challenge him, half annoyed at his comment. “I have nothing to hide. I just don’t know you well enough to give you the intimate details of my life.” No statement has ever been more true or more full of shit. The irony of that is not lost on me. The truth is that I have plenty to hide, but I also don’t know him well enough to trust him, and I probably never will. Only a handful of people know my secrets, and I’m not looking to add to that number. My discretion is the thing that has helped my business to grow this much over the years. It’s also the thing that has kept me away from the long arm of the law.
“I just know what I know.”
“And you think you know me.”
“No, but then again, I don’t think many people know you.”
Talk about hitting the head right on the nail. Am I really that easy to read, or is it just that he has some sort of insight on me? “Now you’re getting somewhere.”
“Have dinner with me.” It’s not a question; it sounds more like a command. And though I’m not the type of girl to cave to the demands of others, I really want to relent to his.
“Where did that come from? It’s kind of out of nowhere.”
“Why beat around the bush? You’ll never get what you want if you don’t ask for it.”
“And you want me?”
“I want dinner…with you.” I watch the bobbing of his throat as he swallows a swig of his drink, and instinctively, I swallow too, feeling almost like prey being hunted.
“No.”
“No?” He questions with an arch of the brow.
“No.”
He places his drink back on the bar and gives me a slow nod. “All right, I can take a hint. I’ll back off. It was a pleasure to meet you, Victoria.”
“You, too,” I return, secretly wishing that he would have pushed a little harder, secretly wishing he had twisted my arm about dinner, but knowing that it’s better this way. Jumping off my stool, I reach for my purse and turn back to face him. Jesus, looking at him is hard. He’s just too… I need to get far away from him.
“I’ll see you around sometime.” He smiles just barely, but says nothing as I walk away, closing the slight crack in the window of possibilities that may have existed with Nathan Lennox.