Chapter 2 #2
He snorts. “Lifestyle. Money isn’t a lifestyle. It’s a tool.” He makes a fist. “A weapon.”
I gulp.
Weapons … to strike who?
“But it also allows me to give to people in need,” he says, relaxing his muscles again when he turns to look my way. “To help those who others have abandoned.”
I lower my eyes. “I wasn’t…”
“You weren’t what?”
“Never mind.” I look out the window.
Telling him everything there is to know about me would be foolish. Not to mention dangerous.
“My mom’s waiting for me at home,” I blurt out. Just to be safe.
When I look at him, all he does is grin. “I’m sure she is.”
Well, that didn’t nearly sway him as much as I had hoped it would.
“I’m still going to take you to dinner,” he says as the car comes to a stop.
I frown, confused why this random, rich stranger would go through all this trouble just for me.
“If you’ll let me, of course,” he adds, cocking his head in that same attractive way he did before when I first saw him.
My stomach growls again, answering for me, and he laughs a little. “I think that’s a yes.”
The driver opens the doors again. “I’ve booked a table for you, sir.”
“Thank you,” Vincenzo replies, and he holds out his arm for me. “Will you join me?”
With a tentative smile, I scoot out of the car. I feel like Cinderella, who just got taken to the ball after getting a dress made by the fairy godmother herself.
Vincenzo guides me up a couple of staircases to where a man guards the front door. When he sees us, he immediately opens the doors. “Mr. Ricci, right this way, sir.”
“They’ve been expecting you,” I whisper as another server shows us to the table.
“They know me, and I know them,” he replies.
I look up into his brilliant eyes. “You seem to know an awful lot of people.”
“Out of necessity, not because I enjoy it,” he says, as the server scoots my chair back and shows me where I’m seated. “But I do enjoy this.”
I sit down. “This?”
He pushes my chair forward and sits down opposite me. “Having dinner with a girl like you.”
“And what kind of girl is that?”
The server hands us the menus, and the prices make me dizzy, just like in the clothing store.
“Would you like something to drink?” the server asks.
“Chateau Lafite,” Vincenzo replies. “The bottle.”
The server walks off, leaving us alone again.
And I can’t stop staring at just how handsome this guy looks, like a Greek god sculpted from stone.
“So … why were you there in that alley?” he suddenly asks, catching me off guard.
“Oh, I … had an argument back home that was pretty bad,” I say. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the entire truth, either.
“With your mother?” he asks.
I nod. “It happens.”
“A lot?”
My eyes narrow. “Why do you want to know.”
His brows rise. “Can’t I get to know you?”
The server brings the wine, interrupting our conversation only for me to do a double take at the brand. Because what that man just poured into my glass must be worth three hundred dollars.
“Go on,” Vincenzo beckons, and he picks up his glass. “Drink.”
I take a sip. It tastes like heaven but also like money. Lots and lots of money. Swallowing feels like a sin. Still, I muster a gulp.
“And?”
“Good. Very good,” I respond.
He smiles. “I’m glad, considering the price.”
“You didn’t have to order this for me,” I say.
“Oh, no, I wanted to,” he replies. “Very much.”
I’m stunned by his response. I don’t understand why he’s so kind.
“Why do you want to spend so much money on me?” I ask, suspicious of his motives. “First a dress, now this.”
“Is it forbidden to want to help people?” he retorts.
“No,” I say, “but …”
He leans across the table and places his hand on mine. “Then let me help.”
He stares into my eyes with a kind of crushing weight I’ve never experienced before, and I can’t look away, no matter how hard I try.
“You were hungry, so let me feed you,” he says. “You were cold and wet, so let me offer you clothes.”
I want to accept this kindness so desperately, but … “What do you expect from me?”
People always want something. I’ve been disappointed too much in life to expect anything else.
He pauses, visibly annoyed. “Nothing.”
He can’t be serious. All this … in exchange for nothing?
“You’re joking, right?” I jest. “There must be something you want from me.”
“Is that what you’re used to?” he asks. “People asking for something in return?”
It hits a little too close to home, and I pull back my hand.
“I won’t ask for anything …” he says. “But I need you to be honest with me.”
I frown, but then the server comes back and asks, “Have you made a choice?”
I stare at the menu, not knowing what I’m allowed to order. Because I can’t pay for any of this.
“We’ll have the steak,” Vincenzo fills in for me. “You’re not vegetarian, right?”
I shake my head, and he smiles while the server takes our menus and walks away.
But Vincenzo immediately homes in on me again. “Do you have somewhere to stay?”
I take a big gulp of my wine, almost choking on it.
But he refuses to look away.
“I …”
“You don’t, do you?” he says.
I shake my head. I don’t like admitting it, but he already figured it out, judging by the look of pity on his face.
“That’s why you were in that alley,” he says.
I take another big gulp of wine until my glass is empty. But then I’m instantly reminded of my situation … and the thing growing inside me that I never really wanted.
I place my hand on my belly, feeling instantly guilty for chugging down that expensive wine.
What am I going to do about this?
When I look up again, his eyes have lowered to where my hand is, and I immediately remove it.
Shit. Did he notice?
The food is brought out and placed in front of us, the smells mouth-watering. I feel almost sick for even wanting to eat it. It’s so expensive. I could’ve bought a week’s worth of food for my mom and me just from the cost of this dish.
But I don’t live with her anymore.
She made that painfully clear.
I swallow and pick up my fork and knife.
“Go on. Take a bite,” Vincenzo says.
I do what he tells me because I don’t want to offend him. But the second the steak hits my tongue, it practically melts in my mouth and makes me want to cry.
“Good, right?” he says, smiling contently.
“I’ve never had something this good.”
He cuts into his steak in such a peculiar way that it draws my attention. Veggies and potatoes are also on his plate, but none of them is allowed to touch each other. When he cuts, he puts in the extra effort so that every piece looks exactly the same.
Strange, if you ask me.
But I guess nothing is strange anymore after today.
He takes a small bite and says, “You can have this every day of the week if you like.”
My fork clatters onto my plate. “What?”
Vincenzo leans forward and places his hand on top of mine. “I want to offer you a place to stay.”
I can’t even swallow the second bite. “But why … me?”
He gently caresses the top of my hand, making heat course through my veins. “Because I do not like injustice.” He licks his lips. “And you’ve been dealt too much.”