Page 66 of Damaged

“You’re being absurd,” Johannes says with indignation.

“No. Letting you leave with your eyeballs after you just insulted my employee and me is absurd. Now get the fuck out before I eat you for dinner, Johannes. Kate, you too. Although I doubt you’d taste much better than beet root.”

“We’re calling the police,” Johannes says. “You just tanked half a dozen contracts. Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“A bunch of spoiled fools.”

“I’ll call the police,” Johannes says again.

James sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles violently. The whole table jumps. People start looking left and right, worrying while they wonder what he just summoned.

Two men with rifles against their chests come out from the dark. One pulls his black facemask down. “Yessir?”

“These people are refusing to leave the property. They want to contact local authorities.”

“That would be a bad idea for them,” I hear Brock say.

“I think so as well. Your bags will be driven to you. That’s my final offer.”

“We’ll go,” Johannes says. “We’ll go.” His voice is high like he might start crying.

James says nothing.

The table clears apart from Ashwin and a shy Canadian named Morrie who has said all of two words this evening. They keep eating awkwardly, as if they have no appetite but don’t know what else to do.

James stays at the head of the table as the others clear out. They walk up the stone driveway that snakes uphill and vanish.

When they’re gone, James has a large glass of scotch brought out to him. I don’t know what to do or say. I sit and listen to the waves and my heart crash.

“Um… Can I be excused?” Ashwin asks after another couple minutes.

James frowns. “Of course. Make yourselves at home, please.”

Ashwin and Morrie scramble to their feet like schoolkids and file quickly inside one after the other.

James keeps sipping his scotch and then picks up his knife and fork. He starts to eat as if nothing happened.

A minute passes while I just sit. He and I are the last at the table. “Thank you,” I say finally, but it sounds awkward. Like the silence was supposed to stay intact and I just fucked it up.

James raises his brow. “You’re a fool to thank me for bringing you here. I should’ve known they’d be like that around you.”

“How could you have known?”

“Because Iknowthem. And you’re everything they wish they could buy.”

The wind comes off the sea, cold. I raise my shoulders and cross my arms. Despite the chill, my face is still flushed.My heart rate is high, and I can feel it flutter even faster as a question brews behind my lips.

“What do you mean by that?”

James sets down his scotch glass. He stares at me for several seconds, his hair blowing gently across his forehead. “You’re beautiful, Sophia. Gorgeous, kind, and curious. I always wondered about the type of woman songs are written about. Wars are fought over. Lives… are ruined for.” He says the last bit like he’s on the brink of ruining his own. “And if you want to hear the truth, I think it’s a woman like you. It drives me crazy that they’d try to bring you down. So don’t thank me for putting you in the middle of them.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless. I’m two seats from James, but if I lean a little to my right, I can reach his hand. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I do it. I stretch and put his big hand in mine. He doesn’t pull away; he flips my hand over gently and runs his thumb over my palm. He pauses it on my wrist, right where he can feel my pulse, and then presses down.

My breaths become short as we lock eyes.

“Are you running a marathon, snowflake?”

“No,” I say with a fake little laugh.

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