Chapter Two Lexie #2
“I’ll trade you.” I offer him my card, and he hands me his.
There it is, printed in black and white by the state of New York.
Callum Russo, with the penthouse as his listed address.
I’ve never seen such an intense driver’s license photo before; he’s staring down the camera like he’s daring every person who looks at it to question him, something I doubt happens often. And that’s exactly what I did.
I glance up from his license to find him watching me curiously. Callum Russo stares with the same analyzing intensity in real life as he does in his photo.
I guess that’s my answer, it’s really him. Too bad this license can’t also tell me if he’s as dangerous as he looks—they don’t exactly have a background check printed on the back.
“This doesn’t look like you, Lexie West.” He’s commenting on my photo that’s basically a decade old.
I know exactly what he’s looking at, the overly scrunched hair with curtain bangs flat-ironed into submission, round cheeks, and closed-mouth smile hiding a mouth full of metal braces.
Overall, not my best look. My hair styling and skincare journey have really come a long way since then—it’s just unfortunate that particular phase has been immortalized in my identification photo.
I’m not the type to get embarrassed, but I can feel the blush warming my cheeks anyway.
“Hey, don’t judge. I’m barely eighteen in that photo, that was eight years ago,” I say in my defense.
“At least my photo doesn’t look like I’m threatening every person who asks for my ID,” I shoot back, the words leaving my mouth too fast for me to think better of them.
Dammit, I’m teasing him like he’s the friend I was just on the phone with.
I have a bad habit of being too comfortable around people I don’t actually know.
Luckily, he cracks a small smile, apparently not offended in the least. The man is as devastating as he is intimidating, especially when he smiles.
There’s a small scar on his right cheek, and I can tell that his nose has been broken more than once, adding character to otherwise perfectly masculine features.
He’s tall, every bit the six-foot-four listed on his license.
I have to tilt my head to look up at him; he stands a good foot taller than me since I’m only five-four.
His presence matches his frame, and he fills the expansive kitchen until I feel crowded.
“I have that effect on people,” he admits.
“You’re right, your picture certainly isn’t threatening.
” The teasing edge in his tone laughs, whether at me or with me I’m not sure.
Walking back to the place settings at the kitchen island, he pulls out a stool and motions for me to sit.
I’m not sure that I’m comfortable sitting down to eat with this man, but I comply anyway.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I say in apology. I wait as he cuts into the meat, admiring how it slices like butter, the center tender and bright red in the perfect medium rare. That’s a beautiful steak if I do say so myself. As he chews, he nods in what looks like appreciation.
“You’re not who I was expecting either,” he says. “I wasn’t supposed to be here, but there’s been a change of plans.”
“I’ll go pack, I can be gone in thirty minutes.”
“Don’t bother,” he states, the authority in his words leaving no room for argument.
“I have some business to take care of, I’m only in the city for a few days.
” Suddenly I’m curious what kind of business a man like this does.
But the last thing I’m going to do is ask.
That’s none of my business and I know how to mind my own.
“Okay,” I agree, not sure what else I can say. Taking a bite, I chew slowly as silence stretches between us.
Glancing over, my eyes catch his as he regards me.
This man stares a lot, but in a way I’m not used to.
He’s not gawking or ogling. His gaze is intentional, almost analytical.
It’s like there’s some sort of calculation going on in his brain and I’m part of the equation.
Those ever-seeing hazel eyes look into my very soul, reading me and tucking away that information for later use.
He, however, shows very little of what he’s thinking.
“What hospital do you work at, Doc?”
“I’m an ER nurse,” I correct. “I spent eighteen weeks working at New York Presbyterian.”
“But you don’t work there now?” I shake my head, washing down a bite of steak with a sip of wine. This Cabernet Sauvignon is the perfect pairing choice.
“No, I took some time off.” I don’t need to mention that I’d planned to extend my contract at New York Presbyterian for another thirteen weeks but begged to be let out of the obligation.
Tony saved my ass from burning a few professional bridges when I was able to recommend him to my recruiter for a position they were desperate to fill. And all I had to do in return is stay in this penthouse for a few months? It was an easy deal.
“And someone else set you up to stay here?” He’s more than just curious, he’s solving a puzzle. “Tony,” he supplies, looking for confirmation.
“Yeah, Tony.” I nod. “He’s an EMT I worked with. He took a contract at the last minute, so he got everything set up for me to watch your place instead.”
Callum stares at the contents of his wineglass, processing and contemplating. Then he changes the subject.
“There will be people coming in and out while I’m here.
” He takes a sip of his wine, obviously not the least bit uncomfortable in the situation we’ve found ourselves in.
And why would he be? It’s his home, his wine, his say of what happens.
I’m the one out of her element here, in a strange apartment, in a strange city, with a complete stranger. He’s got the power, and he knows it.
Something tells me this dynamic isn’t a one-off. Callum holds the power in most situations.
“I’ll stay out of your way,” I assure him. I plan on being seen as little as possible. But he shakes his head, hazel eyes meeting mine.
“Don’t worry about that. The place is still yours to use how you want.” Something shifts behind his eyes and the air around us turns more serious. “But from this moment on, you don’t answer the door. Not while I’m staying here. And my office is off-limits.”
I blink at him a few times, absorbing his instructions and the ominous threat simmering just below the surface. Then I nod, forcing back my nerves before I respond.
“I’ll let you answer the door and avoid your office like the plague, promise.” Great, Lexie, now it sounds like you’re mocking him. My comment doesn’t seem to irritate him. In fact, he barely registers that I spoke at all. He just stares at me, still solving a puzzle only he can see.
Hopping down from the stool, I carry my dishes to the sink and give them a good rinse before loading them into the dishwasher.
I can feel Callum’s presence behind me while I work, his tracking gaze giving me a complex.
It’s too bad a stranger appeared unannounced on a night that I’m not dressed for company.
“I didn’t touch your bedroom.” I address him over my shoulder as I clean up the mess I made while cooking. This silence is killing me, I compulsively need to fill it. “It didn’t feel right to take the primary suite, so I’m staying in the downstairs guest room.”
“Perfect.” He sounds distracted, and when I turn around, he’s typing on his phone.
“I’m going to my room, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Doc.”
“I’m a nurse.” There’s definitely a dose of sass in my correction, and as I turn to leave the kitchen, I swear the corners of his lips quirk in a smug smile. Rolling my eyes, I’m heading to the guest room where I plan to read until my eyes close.
The clock tells me I’ve stalled as long as I can, it’s time to go to sleep.
Lying in the darkness, I will unconsciousness to come before my demons make their nightly appearance.
Anxiety washes over me, hot and itchy. The silence in the large bedroom is deafening as my thoughts wrestle for dominance.
Just one night, I can survive just one night in the dark.
I peek one eye open to glance at the door for the third time to check if it’s still closed.
I can’t see the door handle from here in the darkness, but I already double-checked that it’s locked before climbing into bed.
I’m not usually so paranoid, but my nerves are a mess right now.
The last thing I need is to find a giant man looming over me in the darkness.
Callum didn’t give me predator vibes earlier, but he seems like someone who knows how to hide his sins. Plus, he’s still a stranger—and a man. I’m not gonna make attacking me any easier with an open door. Ted Bundy didn’t seem like the predatory type either.
Forcing myself to relax, I roll onto my back, readjust my pillow, and squeeze my lids shut. The first face appears in my mind, curly blonde hair, wide brown eyes lit with pain, and two missing front teeth. She’s so little, with so much life left to experience. But her light is already dimming.
Wrenching my eyes open, I sit up abruptly and try to regulate my breathing. Heart still racing, I reach for the tv remote on the nightstand. I click on the same show I choose every night, the familiar opening sequence playing. Comforting voices fill the room as I lay back down and try to relax.
“The best home bakers from across the country applied in the thousands. Just twelve have made it to our tent. Every aspect of their baking skills will be tested. Everything they create will be judged.” Soothing English accents wrap around me, chasing away the shadows in my mind that threaten to swallow me.
“Welcome to the Great British Baking Show.”