Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Sage
His words bother me more than I want to admit.
I don’t know what to expect with him. I’ve seen all the facades of him, depending on which angle I decide to look at.
The danger he presents is never far from the surface of his veiled words, or the sharpness of his eyes.
But at no point has he hurt me, threatened me with a touch of pain.
He hasn’t had to. I’ve been terrified from the moment I sidled up next to him at the club.
A man like him can probably sniff that out.
Tonight has been different. He bought my dress, insisted on touching me, and opened my door for me. The conversation, aside from the warning to do exactly as I’m told, has been like a normal date. A really nice date. Nice. Seductive.
Dangerous.
Barrett slows his pace as we walk across the parking lot and puts us in the line of people displaying their tickets to the security at the front door.
Reaching into his jacket, Barrett pulls the tickets he took from me before leaving my driveway from an inside pocket and hands them over when it’s our turn.
The guard scans the tickets before tucking them in a bucket sitting on a small table behind him. “Enjoy your night.” He immediately ignores us and sets his attention on the next couple in line.
“How do I introduce you? We’re going to run into people I know.” We’re still making our way in with the line of people slowly dispersing into the room.
“Pick a name. I’ll go with it.”
I set my other hand on his arm and lean into him. “Frank.”
He sends me a side glance.
“Miles.” My lips are starting to twitch. “Phinneas. Fritz.”
He tilts his head down until his lips are close to my forehead. “Trying to get yourself in trouble, pet?”
Oh, those words are trouble. Coaxing and provocative. Who wouldn’t put themselves in trouble with this man? Anyone who knows what he is wouldn’t. I won’t. Yet, I keep going, “You don’t like my suggestions? I thought I could choose and you’d go with it?”
He doesn’t answer, but straightens as the space in front of us opens up, allowing us into the room to go where we please.
“Felix. Otis.” My tone is thoughtful and I refrain from tapping my finger to my lips. “Otto.”
We’ve only made it another dozen steps into the room when he stops, turning me toward him with a knuckle under my chin.
Fighting his hold isn’t an option for so many reasons.
I’m physically not capable of fighting him, and my body is making all of its own decisions right now.
He’s forcing me to look up at him. His lips twitch and he stares down at me for several moments before finally speaking. “Or you could introduce me as Daddy.”
“No.” I know I said it, but I didn’t hear the denial come out of me.
My lips moved and formed the word. My throat vibrated with the sound, but I’m afraid it wasn’t even a whisper.
Barrett grins with a sinful, all-knowing lift of his lips that says he sees more than I want him to.
But is it him as a package that makes my lungs deflate or his suggestion?
“Ben. Introduce me as Ben, pet.”
I nod and he lets me go. Ben. I can do that. It’s similar enough to his real name, or the name he uses.
As we continue walking further into the room, I keep my gaze to the floor, not wanting to know how many people watch us after that little scene. Maybe it hadn’t been as striking from the outside as it had been in the centre of it.
“Walk tall, pet.”
Immediately, I snap my chin up and glance at him.
“Always walk tall, even when you’re shy.” He lifts my right hand from his arm and places a gentle kiss in the centre of my palm. Placing it back down, he steers us toward the bar.
I’m stunned. This isn’t at all what I expected of him. I move in silence, trying to piece together everything he’s said and done for me tonight.
We reach the bar and I snap out of it. “I don’t want wine,” I say quickly before he orders for me. I’d only had it at his club because it felt easy.
“I figured that out after raiding your liquor cabinet.” With his hand on my elbow, he helps me sit on a bar stool while we wait for one of the bartenders.
“What can I get you, sir? Miss?” The bartender looks to be about my age, with his hair trimmed short and wearing the customary black and white uniform. He has a baby soft face with bright blue eyes, and he’s tall.
“Two whiskeys. Straight. Irish, please.”
“Of course.” Baby Blue reaches below the bar for the bottle and glasses.
I’ve only ever been to events or bars, aside from Bitter Cross, that serve cheap liquor, the kind that builds up in your stomach to sit like a heavy weight when you least expect it.
But as I glance at the bottles lining the walls behind the busy bartenders, there’s a large variety of exclusive brands.
Barrett passes me my glass and I inhale before taking a sip. It’s smooth going down, but still has a sharp taste on the tongue. “This is good.”
He holds his hand out to help me from the stool and leads me to an empty table nearby, standing close so his arm is around my back. “Tell me how many people you recognize here.”
Like a bubble popping in front of my face, I realized I allowed him to lull me into the evening as if we weren’t here for a job.
“I see a few political faces and the higher class of the city. I don’t know any of them personally, but they’re all clients of our agency.
” I’ve worked with some on occasion as that tends to be who we attract, but I don’t have the same relationship that my boss or some of the other agents have with them.
There are some in that circle I actively avoid.
“Who else?”
“My boss and his wife.” I tilt my head in their direction without directly pointing them out. “And three others I work with and their spouses or dates. And the office secretary, Willow.” I list off their names while Barrett sips his drink.
“Why don’t you have the same ambitions they do? You’ve been there long enough to have the same success, yet you keep yourself where you are.”
“Perceptive, aren’t you?” I didn’t keep that as a secret, but I never said anything to him to give him that impression. And I haven’t been there as long as some, although long enough to earn some privileges. I’m the youngest real estate agent in the company.
“Part of the job.” Of course he’d have to be perceptive.
“Speaking of a job. What do you do? Not the real job, but when someone asks. If I’m supposed to introduce you, I’m sure they’ll ask what it is you do for a living.
Everyone at these things does. It’s what defines you, don’t you know?
” I roll my eyes. What’s your name? What do you do for a living?
Where do you live? And where did you grow up?
All questions that tell a person your status in life and if you’re worthy of their attention.
They liked to preach about not judging a book by its cover, but they all judge—some don’t even know they judge others.
“I’ll handle that. Nice evasion though.” Barrett moves his hand so it sits against my bare skin on my lower back. The touch is enough to derail me. “Answer my question.”
“I like balance. I don’t believe any person or entity should consume someone to the point of eating them from the inside out.
” Maybe my description is a little dramatic, but watching Nova go through her marriage, seeing people climb corporate ladders and still be depressed when they finally reached the top, it showed me a life I didn’t want.
I want to enjoy myself. And my job isn’t that exciting.
“What’s on the opposite side of your scale from work? What makes you happy, pet?” His breath falls over my shoulder. He so easily lulls me into this magical bubble of feeling special, but I can’t fall for it.
“This is a job, Ben. I’m working for you and only here because I owe you. You don’t need to know what makes me happy.” I finish my drink and turn enough to break his touch on my back.
He’s too seductive.