11. Lourdes #3
“I need to pee out that awful wine. Get a hold of yourself.” I push inside the ladies’ room and close the door.
I have no idea who she is or if I insulted someone connected. But that felt good. Still, her warning that Ares will use me and then get rid of me stays with me.
When I finish up in the restroom, Lucia is waiting for me, leaning against the wall.
“Oh, hi,” I say, surprised to see her staring at me.
“Forgive me for being forward and direct. Who are you, really? Ares doesn’t bring women to my restaurant,” she says softly.
Taking a clarifying breath, I say, “I work for him. I’m his personal assistant. He asked me to join him to look like he’s on a date.”
Lucia drops her head back and laughs. “Ares doesn’t date. Who did he think he was fooling?”
“I don’t know. I just met him,” I say, rocking on my heels.
“I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. You’re special to him.” Her expression softens, but her tone stays firm. “Be careful. When Ares wants something, he takes it. Nothing stands in his way.” Her gaze falls to the wedding ring on my left hand. “Nothing.”
Then she does something I didn’t expect. She hugs me. A moment later, she’s gone. But her words and warning follow me back to the table.
A delectable, perfect slice of chocolate cake sits there with one spoon.
“I took the liberty of ordering dessert.” Ares smiles at me, and it sends tingles up my arms.
But I think of Lucia’s words just moments ago.
With the one spoon, I take a bite and pass it to him. He carves into the whipped cream and mixes it with the cake for a hearty bite. I watch his tongue on the spoon and think about where I want it. Can I have a torrid affair before I leave?
Even if I were single, Ares Zervas, a Greek mafia king, wouldn’t openly date or marry someone working-class. His assistant, no less.
“Have you had enough?” he asks, fiddling with the spoon. His deep voice rubs across my skin like velvet.
“Yes. I feel ready to burst.” I don’t tell him this is the most I’ve eaten in weeks.
Blake, the waiter we never saw, tells Ares his meal is on the house, but he drops five crisp hundred-dollar bills on the table anyway. He helps me out of the booth, and walking to the exit, his hand rests at the small of my back.
The drive to my apartment is quiet, and I remind myself that this was a business dinner disguised as a date. I hear Lucia’s warning: Ares doesn’t date.
At my building, he gets out and offers to walk me to my apartment’s lobby door.
“That’s not necessary.” I try to shake his hand, clinging to propriety.
He leans in to me instead, brushing a kiss to each cheek. The touch is light, European, devastating. “You are necessary.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see you at the office tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll be at the Aurelian until after lunch.”
“Okay. Good night.”
Walking backward, he says, “Someone from HR will onboard you.”
I’m on board for more nights like this.
Stop it.
He gets into his Bentley, looking like a Great Gatsby golden-age mogul. The black SUVs idling behind Ares, however, make this look more like a scene from The Godfather.
I float up the stairs to my apartment. My belly is full, and my heart doesn’t hurt for the first time in years.
Stepping inside the living room, something feels…off. I reach for the light switch and flick it on.
David is sitting on the couch. “I came home early,” he says evenly. “Where were you?”
My hands close around my purse. I never even checked my phone. My stomach twists into a stubborn knot in just a matter of seconds of being in the breathing space with this vile man.
“I lost my job yesterday,” I tell him gently. “Nathan’s business got bought, and the new owner moved it to New Jersey. Overnight. But I found something else right away.” I keep my tone upbeat to sound proud. “An assistant position. Downtown.”
“Working late already?”
“It was a business dinner,” I say, shaking.
“Who are you working for?”
“Zervas & Company. Ares Zervas.” I clear my throat. “The man from the club last week.”
“Ares fucking Zervas?” David stands up. “You told me nothing happened in that lounge.”
“Nothing did,” I insist, folding my arms.
David narrows his gaze, then he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re not Ares Zervas’s type.”
He’s not the only one who can’t fathom a man like Ares wanting me. I can’t fathom it.
“I’m making the same salary as before,” I say quickly to divert attention to something I think he cares about. “So, it worked out.”
“Don’t fuck this one up.” He picks up his video game controller and lights a joint, as if the conversation is already over.
“I didn’t fuck the other one up,” I bark back.
He stands up and I back away.
“I’m going to sleep. I have to be in the office at eight a.m.”
I retreat to the bedroom and close the door softly behind me. From my bag, I pull out the small planner I keep buried and flip to a blank page. I tally the money available to me against what it will cost to move Sandrine to Arizona.
I should have all I need by New Year’s Eve.
Ares said the Aurelian will open that night.
I stare at the date and nod to myself.
I can leave right after that.