Before I can ask who these dangerous people are, she gets into the car and fastens her seatbelt.
Madison
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After givingmy address to the driver, I feel a bit embarrassed. The man will have to drive for about fifty minutes to where I live in New Jersey.
"Agreeing to the ride doesn't mean I'll accept your dinner invitation," I say to fill the silence, because just being in such a small space with him gets me very flustered.
"I don't recall inviting you again."
I feel my face heat up. "Don't try to play me for a fool. Why would you wait for me if you didn't want to go out with me?"
"I didn't say I won't go out with you, just that this isn’t another dinner invitation. As for why I waited for you, I don't like the idea of you traveling alone on the train at this hour."
I sigh, a bit annoyed, a bit . . . I can't explain. Warm inside, perhaps? When was the last time someone cared about me? I'm usually the one who cares about everyone else. "I've been doing it ever since I can remember. Taking the train alone, I mean."
"How old are you?"
"It's not polite to ask a lady's age."
He falls silent, and it has the same effect on me as if he were trying to persuade me. How does he do that? I don't usually yield so easily.
I turn to look at him. "Nineteen."
"Where are your parents?"
"Is this an interrogation, Mr. Kostanidis?"
"Are you a rebellious girl, Madison?" he counters.
"Is being rebellious not bowing to someone? Because if it is, you can bet your life on that."
To my surprise, a slow smile, though still preserving a hint of cynicism, forms on that perfect mouth.
Oh my God, he's so handsome.
"Why are you asking me these things?"
"To get to know you. It's what I do when something piques my interest. I study it until there are no more secrets."
"Why?"
"To decide if it's what I want."
"Jesus, you're so arrogant."
"Honest, I would say. I don't sugarcoat or wrap my words in silk to make them more pleasing, Madison, but I play fair one hundred percent of the time."
More than what he says, it's the promises his eyes make to me that, even in my inexperience, I can understand. They make it clear what they want with me, but they also tell me that if I say yes, I won't regret it.
I feel my skin prickle, and I try to change the focus of the conversation, or I risk succumbing to temptation.
"What did your brother say about you . . . hum . . . coming after me? Because now I understand why they sent me home after just one dance on stage. It was because of you."
"I didn't make any trouble for you, if that's what you're thinking. I left a generous tip for the private performance."
"I didn't check. I was happy to be able to go home early."