Page 18 of Casino King

“Yes,” is all he says, going back to reading the paper.

A minute later, Enzo strolls through the door with a small food cart. He brings over covered plates to me and Alec and then takes the third for himself over to the kitchen island where he takes a seat at a stool to eat.

“Thank you, Enzo. Why are you over there?”

“Because I told him not to bother us.”

“You’re not still mad at him for last night, are you? I told you he helped me.”

Alec’s eyes dart to mine and holds them with a hardness that sends a chill through me. “He was too late. Did you not see yourself in the mirror?”

“I did.” I look away, biting into a slice of crispy bacon, deciding to let it drop. I know he’ll never see it my way.

We eat in silence, and I don’t realize how hungry I am until my plate of eggs, bacon, and toast is clean.

“I have to get home and get ready for work. Will Enzo be taking me down to my car? I can’t access the elevator myself.”

“You don’t have work today.”

“What? Yes, I do,” I answer, confused. “I work the lunch shift at Lucy’s Diner Saturday afternoons.”

“Not today.” Alec folds the newspaper neatly and places it on the table, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee.

“And why not?”

“Because I already had your boss informed that you’re unwell and will be out for the next week. At least.”

“You did what?” I ask incredulously, my eyes widening. “You had no right to do that. I need to work, Alec. I have bills. Rent.”

“That’s taken care of. You just have to worry about healing.”

“I’m fine.” I sigh. “And what do you mean about it being taken care of?”

“I took care of everything,” he tells me casually, continuing to drink his coffee like he isn’t telling me something absurd.

“No.”

“No?” His eyebrows raise and a little smirk graces his lips.

“I don’t need you to take care of anything for me. I manage just fine,” I say proudly, squaring my shoulders.

“I never said you didn’t, or couldn’t. I’m telling you that from here on out, I’m here to take care of everything.”

“Alec,” I say through a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why can’t I be?”

“Because that’s crazy. You’re crazy.”

He shrugs. “I’ve been called worse, bella. And there’s no debate to be had here. You don’t have work at the diner or the dance studio this week.”

My anger flares. “How dare you. You called the studio too? Those kids need me. They really look forward to class.”

“There’s a substitute lined up.”

I place my palms flat on the table and take a deep breath. “Alec,” I say calmly. “You can’t just swoop in and start controlling things. I already thanked you for everything you did in helping me last night, but my life is my own. I like my job at the diner and I love teaching dance to those kids.”

“But you love your Friday nights more,” he counters. I open my mouth to deny it, but he cuts me off. “Don’t try and tell me otherwise, Tessa. I’ve seen you up there.”

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