Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.
He takes a step closer, and it has my heart rate spiking. When he’s within reaching distance, he holds his hand out to me.
I swallow hard on my anxiety, but as I place my hand in his, I feel the same sense of comfort with him I felt at the club.
I have made progress!
The confirmation has a smile spreading over my face. “It’s not a false sense of security.” My eyes meet his. “I’m making progress.”
His eyes crease at the corners as if he’s smiling back at me and I suddenly hate the stupid ski mask.
“If I promise to ignore you in public and keep your identity a secret, will you take the ski mask off?”
Letting go of my hand, he shakes his head. “It’s the only rule I have.”
I sigh but don’t push him further. “Okay.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I ask, “Is it against the rules to meet here?”
Again, he shakes his head. “Is that what you want?”
I’m not sure.
Moving around him, I walk to one of the couches and take a seat. “I’m in two minds about it.”
He sits down on the other couch, then murmurs, “I’m okay with whatever you decide.”
Glancing a the kitchen, I ask, “Would you like something to drink?”
He points at the ski mask. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
My gaze settles on the coffee table between us, and I consider which option would work best for me. Here or the club.
I won’t have to take the subway every other night.
“I think I’d like to meet here,” I say.
“You have my number. Just text me when you want me to come over.”
“Will your boss be okay with it?”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “I own Paradiso.”
Holy shit.
He is the boss.
I gape at him for a moment. “You’re the owner?”
He nods and chuckles at my surprised reaction.
“Okay…wow…” A frown forms on my forehead. “In that case, I have a complaint.”
“What?”
“Seriously, you could’ve chosen better masks.”
Laughter bursts from him. “You really hate the balaclavas.”
“A lot.” Not wanting to insult him any further, I change the subject. “I’m sure you’re busy and don’t have time to spare. Why did you agree to meet with me?”
“I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong again.” He rests his forearms on his thighs and links his fingers. “It’s clear you’re dealing with something traumatic, and I want to help.”
“That’s really kind of you.”
He glances around my apartment, then asks, “What are your plans going forward? It will help if I know what to expect from future meetings.”
Hoping he’ll go along with everything, I reply, “After I manage to lie on the bed with you in the room for at least ten minutes, I’d like to try it with you lying beside me.”
Without even thinking about it, he agrees. “Okay. What then?”
“I’d like to try hugging you.”
He nods.
“That’s all I have for now.”
There’s a moment’s silence, then he asks, “You opened up a little to me earlier. Do you want to try telling me more about what happened?”
Instantly, my muscles tighten, and my anxiety spikes a little. “I don’t know about that. I don’t want to burden you with the details.”
“It won’t be a burden, Samantha. Maybe if you talk about it, it will help.”
“I haven’t told anyone.” I shake my head. “I don’t think I can.”
“As long as you know I’m here whenever you feel like talking.”
I give him a thankful smile. “I appreciate it very much.”
He checks the time on his wristwatch, then says, “It’s almost three-thirty. You better get some sleep.”
I let out a groan before chuckling. “My boss is going to kill me.”
“Hopefully, he doesn’t.” My mystery man gets up and walks to the window.
“Thank you for coming over,” I say as I rise to my feet.
“You’re welcome.”
When he disappears down the fire escape, I move closer and shut the window.
Feeling like tonight went really well and hopeful about our future meetings, I walk to my bedroom and flop down on my bed.
“Ugh, why do I have to work? Why couldn’t my family be stinking rich so I can sleep in?”
Chapter 15
Samantha
God, I feel like death warmed over.
Mr. Vitale has been relentless this morning. You’d swear he’s the one who didn’t get any sleep.
Asshole.
Just as the thought crosses my mind, an incoming call comes through from his office.
Answering it, I try to sound upbeat as I say, “Yes, sir?”
“My office. Now!”
God, I hate him.
“I’m coming.” He doesn’t hear my reply, because he’s already hung up.
I let out a whining sound as I get up from my chair and have to resist the urge to stomp my feet like a two-year-old.
Opening the door to the chamber of wrath, I go inside.
“Cancel all my appointments for the next two days,” he barks. “And fix all the mistakes on this contract.”
Papers fly across his desk, and I dart forward to catch them. Before I can stop myself, I snap, “Do you have to be such an asshole?”