“I don’t do threesomes with men.”
“That’s not at all the idea I had,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m not interested in threesomes either, especially when I have you.”
His smile faded, and he gave me that hard look that had become his signature stare.
The waiter returned to our table to take our order, his long, curly hair pulled back in a bun.
“I’ll do the savory stack,” Bastien said. “She’ll take the sweet stack with a side of eggs and the baked beans.”
“You got it, Bastien.” The guy took the menus and walked off.
“Did you just order for me?” I asked.
“Trust me, sweetheart.” He took a drink from his coffee, his elbows on the table, the sunlight coming through the window behind me and striking his handsome face. Then he returned to his favorite pastime and stared at me like I wasn’t a person, but a painting on the wall.
I watched the people in the restaurant for a while, and when I looked back at him, his stare was still on my face. He was comfortable in the silence, content just sitting there with me like we’d known each other forever rather than the blink of an eye. “What’s the gala for?”
“Networking.”
“Doesn’t the Senate see each other all the time?”
“Not necessarily. President Martin will be there as well.”
“As in, the president of France?”
“Yes.”
“You know him?”
“Oh, I definitely know him.”
I didn’t get starstruck and I didn’t think of the president as a celebrity, but I had no idea what I would say to him if I met him. Didn’t follow politics. Barely understood the parameters of the Senate. I was too busy with my own shit to care about law and legislature. “I’m surprised they want to socialize with you publicly.”
“You know what they say…hide in plain sight. You could look corruption in the eye and have no idea it's corruption’s gaze you meet. The public interacts with my world on a daily basis, but they’re none the wiser.”
“That’s a scary thought.”
“It’s our job to govern our citizens. It’s also our job to protect them. I like to think we do both—and make something for ourselves in the process. Instead of spending tax dollars sending the police after criminals they can’t possibly arrest, it makes more sense to profit from it. And those tax dollars go back to the citizens.”
“Well, some of it does.”
A slow smirk moved over his lips. “Yes. Some.”
“Do you pay taxes?”
“Not from the tariffs I collect. But I pay taxes on the revenue earned from my businesses, like the investment company.”
“How many businesses do you own?”
“Many.”
I understood his wealth and his power, but I didn’t understand how someone so young could have accomplished so much. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-three.” He didn’t ask the question in return, either because he already knew or because he didn’t care.
“That’s a lot to accomplish in thirty-three years.”
“Well, I’ve been in the game for a long time.”