Page 19 of Captivated By Him

“Me? Stubborn?” He has his phone in his hands tapping away on the screen, but I can see the up-curve of his lips. His initial irritation has waned, and he’s being playful.

“I’ll go get my purse.” I leave him while he’s in a generous mood and before he starts asking any other questions.

Tomorrow is my day off and now, thanks to fucking Henry, I’m going to have to spend it looking for a new job or a new place to live. I wonder how much time I have before I’m forced into leaving. Hopefully I can scratch up enough cash to get gone before Henry or his goons get their hands on me.

Chapter 6

Nicole

The humidity finally broke in the city, so I ventured to the coffee shop at the end of my block. It’s my day off and after being up for most of the night trying to figure out my next move, I need a pick me up.

With a large macchiato in my grip, I head back out onto the sunny street. I pluck my sunglasses from the top of my head and slide them up my nose. I’ve never liked the sun much, and it really hates me. No matter what SPF I smear over my skin, I’ll burn to a crisp if I’m in it too long.

“Nicole?” Jakub’s voice stops me as I reach the crosswalk. When I turn around, I see him heading toward me.

He’s not in his suit, but rather a pair of jeans and a dark gray t-shirt tucked into his pants. Noticing his pants makes me notice the thick black belt around his waist. I force my gaze away before my mind starts to drift off to memories of his belt.

“Jakub. What are you doing around here?” I ask, looking behind him. His car isn’t around, at least not the black SUV he sent me home in last night.

He reaches me and looks across the street and then down the sidewalk behind me.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks as though I’m some jailbird who’s out of her cage.

I show him my coffee cup. “Getting coffee. It’s a nice day, well, as nice as it can be in Chicago in the summer. But what are you doing here? I can’t imagine you live around here.”

I don’t live in a shitty area. But it’s not exactly what Jakub is used to. When I met him five years ago and he only ran the one club, he lived in an amazing apartment close to Lakeshore Drive. With him now running three clubs, I can’t imagine he’s downgraded his living situation.

“I was heading your way.”

“Why?” I take a small step back. “And where’s your car?”

His blond eyebrow arches, peeking over the rim of his designer sunglasses.

“I was at the club; thought I’d take a walk to see you then head back.”

“Well. Here I am, no need to go all the way to my apartment. Did you need something?”

He runs his tongue along the front of his top row of teeth. He does this when he’s agitated and trying to find a delicate way of saying something. He doesn’t want to piss me off because I’ll probably tell him to go to hell, but he’s not one to drop a subject if he’s deemed more information is needed.

“I wanted to be sure you were all right. I tried calling. You didn’t answer.”

I feel my back pocket for my phone and find it empty.

“I must have left my phone at home.” I’m not as attached to it as most of society, and since I’m doing everything I can to remain below the radar of anyone back home, I have no need for it.

His brow shoots up again. “You left it at home?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” I shrug. “I only need it for work and since it’s my day off and the club isn’t even open, I didn’t even think of it.”

“No one back in New York might call?” He’s pushing already.

“No one I want to talk to.” That’s not entirely true. I had a small group of friends back there but talking to them now could put them in danger. And I won’t do that.

“Well. Let me walk you home then.” He gestures for me to cross the street as the light turns.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he says, pressing his open hand to the small of my back. “But I want to.”

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