Chapter 8 Mattie
MATTIE
Mattie carried the tray of empty glasses back to the bar, her mind spinning so fast she almost stumbled over her own feet.
Dimitri had asked her on a date.
On this island, where freedom was a joke, and women were commodities, and the only romance was transactional.
But she wasn't looking for romance. She was only looking for information.
So why was her heart racing? It wasn't because of fear or anxiety but because of…what?
Hope?
Stupid, dangerous hope that she couldn't afford and shouldn't entertain.
She set the tray down at the bar a little less carefully than she should have, earning a raised eyebrow from the bartender.
"Careful with those," Anil said. "You don't want them to break."
"Sorry."
"You look flustered. Did they give you trouble?" He pointed with his chin toward a group of immortals.
"I can handle them."
Even if she couldn't deflect the immortals' advances, Anil couldn't help her, but she saw no point in reminding him that he was human and just as helpless as she was. Well, not entirely as helpless because he didn't need to fear violation.
Or did he?
Not all males favored women, and aggressors didn't discriminate between those they aggressed on. It happened to men, too, but less so.
"You'll tell me if they cross the line, right?"
She cast him a smile. "It's okay, Anil. We are all in the same boat."
He snorted. "I wish we were, darling. I wish we were sailing into the horizon to live happily ever after somewhere else."
It was a dangerous thing to say out loud, but the music was playing, and no one was sitting at the bar, so perhaps it was safe.
Chuckling, she finished unloading the dirty glasses and returned to taking orders while avoiding getting too close to Dimitri's table.
She needed to give him an answer, but she didn't have one yet. The problem wasn't whether she wanted to go on a date with him or not; it was the how, when, and where.
Being seen with him would be a disaster for her. She'd worked so hard to cultivate the image of a shy, virginal, untouchable girl, who blushed and stammered and gave off an air of innocence that, for some bizarre reason, acted as a deterrent to most of the immortals who visited the bar.
Not all of them, though. There were always those who saw innocence as a challenge rather than a barrier, but she handled the persistent few by offering them a glimpse of the scars on her legs.
That was enough to lose their interest. Being perfect physically, immortals were even less tolerant of imperfections than humans.
The looks of disgust on their faces didn't bother her. They were much better than the leering expressions that turned her stomach into fearful knots.
If she were seen with Dimitri, though, her image in the eyes of the immortals would change. They would no longer think of her as innocent but as available and willing. They'd see her as fair game.
She couldn't risk that, which meant that the date would have to take place somewhere that she and Dimitri wouldn't be observed by immortals.
The beach, perhaps?
They could take a moonlight walk on the shore, enjoy the sound of waves, and gaze at the clear night sky overhead. It was the kind of romantic setting that belonged in movies.
But the beach was too exposed, with guards patrolling and surveillance cameras recording movements.
But if not the beach, then where?
The staff kitchen!
The sudden thought was an unexpected stroke of brilliance. There were no immortals in the staff section of the hotel, and the humans would not make a big deal of Dimitri visiting their kitchen.
Besides, there would probably be no one there this late.
The maids started their day early in the morning and retired to their rooms by early evening.
The maintenance guys followed the same schedule.
Tonight, only Anil and the late shift of the hotel kitchen personnel could potentially wander in there, but that wasn't likely at all.
She could sneak Dimitri in, make coffee, maybe offer him some snacks, and sit with him and talk like normal people did in the outside world they had both been snatched from.
It wasn't romantic. It wasn't the beach at sunset or candlelight or any of the things dates were supposed to be, but it was safe and relatively private. And on this island, that was priceless.
Glancing across the bar at Dimitri, she realized that she hadn't told him about the scars yet, and the thought filled her with a new surge of anxiety.
He'd probably noticed her limp, but he had no idea what her legs looked like under her trousers.
What if he changed his mind when he found out?
What if he looked at her like most of the males she'd shown that part of herself? What if all this warmth, all this kindness, all these genuine smiles evaporated the moment he realized she was not whole?
It didn't matter.
She wasn't doing this for romantic reasons. She was doing this for the information he might provide.
The fact that Dimitri was handsome had nothing to do with her decision to accept his offer. His dark brown hair that looked so soft and thick was irrelevant, as were his blue, intelligent eyes that seemed to actually see her rather than look through her.
Mattie was a practical woman, a survivor, and she'd learned long ago that survival meant making hard choices and keeping emotions locked away where they couldn't interfere with clear thinking.
Romance was a luxury she couldn't afford. But even if Dimitri got turned off by her scars, he still might provide information out of guilt.
Decision made, Mattie returned to the bar. "One shot of Yamazaki whiskey, please," she told Anil.
After he poured the glass, she put it on her tray and headed to Dimitri's table with a racing heart but surprisingly steady hands.
Hopefully, the immortals couldn't hear the hammering inside her chest even with their exceptional hearing, or they would wonder what had caused it, and that would be bad.
Relax, she ordered herself. Breathe in and breathe out, nice and steady.
When she reached Dimitri's table, she set down the glass and bent close, bringing her mouth near his ear.
Close enough that she could smell the soap he used, the same industrial, cheap stuff that all the humans on the island were given, and a faint chemical smell that he had probably collected in the laboratory he worked at. It clung to his clothing.
"My shift ends at midnight," she whispered, her voice barely audible even to herself. "Wait for me near the staff entrance in the back of the hotel. I can sneak you into the staff kitchen. We can have coffee and talk, if you consider that a date."
She pulled back just enough to see his face and gauge his reaction.
His eyes lit up with what looked like excitement. He nodded but said nothing, understanding that this needed to be a secret and that acknowledging her offer verbally would be dangerous for her.
Smart man.
She liked smart people, but she had to remember that this wasn't about what she liked and why. This was about gathering information.
With a slight nod and a smile, she walked away to take an order from another table. Hopefully, she looked no different from before, just a waitress doing her job, but her pulse was racing, and she had a feeling that her cheeks were pink because they felt warm.
Time crawled by with excruciating slowness as Mattie took orders, delivered drinks, cleared tables, and smiled at customers who didn't deserve her smiles, all while being hyperaware of Dimitri sitting at his table and nursing his whiskey.
Occasionally, he would glance her way with an indifferent expression that she hoped was fake.
A little after ten o'clock, he stood, and for a heart-stopping moment, Mattie thought that he was leaving because he'd changed his mind. But then he caught her eye across the room and gave her an almost imperceptible smile before leaving.
She had two more hours to get through before midnight.
Two hours to think about what might happen in the staff kitchen and what she was going to say.
Two hours to wonder if this wasn't a very stupid decision.
Still, even if she was making a mistake, it could never compete with the stupidest decision she'd ever made, which had been accepting Gabriel's invitation to have a drink with him.
This might be the second worst, though.
Stop it. It's just coffee and talk, not an acceptance of a marriage proposal.
She'd survived being trafficked. She could survive a coffee date with a Russian scientist who'd asked her out with the kind of nervous sincerity that suggested he was just as insecure as she was.
The bar began to empty as the evening wore on, and by eleven-thirty, there was no one left. She supposed the immortals had a curfew at midnight, otherwise they had no reason to leave so early.
"You can go," Anil said without looking at her. "I'll close up."
"Are you sure?"
He glanced at her left leg and winced. "You need to get off your feet."
Usually, Mattie would have argued, but not tonight. The half an hour he was offering her would give her time to freshen up before her date.
Not that she had anything other than uniforms and pajamas to change into, but a fresh uniform that smelled of laundry detergent rather than alcohol and cigarette smoke would make her feel a lot better.
The trick was doing that without waking up her roommates.
Sneaking into the bathroom, she did a scrub down with a washcloth instead of running the water in the shower and changed into a fresh uniform. Mattie thought she was in the clear when she reached the door, but then Nadia lifted her head. "Where are you going?"
"To grab a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Go back to sleep."
"This late?" Nadia looked at the clock hanging on the wall above her bed. "It's almost midnight."
"I know. I had a rough day, and I need to decompress before I can fall asleep."
"Okay." Nadia put her head back on the pillow. "Try not to wake me up when you come back."
"I will do my best." Mattie blew her an air kiss and went out the door.