Page 21 of Inception

“To be truthful,” he baited, his voice lower now. “I’m happy to have finally had the opportunity to meet you.”

My eyebrows pulled together.

“You must know you’re not particularly an easy person to get next to, Jemma.”

I laughed outright. The idea that somebody that looked like him was having a hard time approaching somebody like me was downright amusing. “Yeah.Right.”

His eyes flared briefly, drawing attention to the thin scar that sliced through his right eyebrow. I wanted to reach out and touch it, comb my finger over it, know its story and burn it into my mind. But I fought back the urge.

“So, um, what can I get for you tonight?” I asked him, reigning myself in. “Anything you want. It’s on me.”

“Anything?” he challenged. His eyes darkened into the kind of stare I was always taught to be wary of. It made my legs want to run away and buckle all at the same time.

“Yes.” The word sailed out way too easily. “No! I mean, yes, anything on the menu,” I corrected, sans grace. “But if you want something from the bar, I’ll have to call another waitress.”

His lips pressed into a line. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Something to eat then?”

His mouth turned up again. “Later. Perhaps.” His expression was amused, almost mocking.

Did I miss something? Was he laughing at me?

“Your bodyguard is watching,” he said unexpectedly.

“My what?” I asked, and then followed his gaze over my right shoulder to Trace who was standing across the way from us looking wholly irritated. And of course, the never-too-far-away Nikki was right there beside him, watching him as he watched me. The whole thing made me want to hurl.

I turned back to Dominic who cocked his head, unaffected.

“If you’re not going to order anything, I have to get back to work,” I explained. “I don’t want to get fired.” And by the look on Trace’s face, it was a definite possibility.

“I understand,” he said, rising from his seat.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He didn’t answer, though he took a step towards me, and then sort of around me, brushing against me as he moved. I shadowed his turn as if I had been tied to him with a string.

“What time do you finish?” he asked, leaning into me in a way that jumbled all the thoughts in my mind.

“I-I—” I couldn’t speak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Two thirty. I finish at two thirty.”

He offered another smile—a delicious crooked grin that made the water pool inside my mouth—and then he walked away, leaving me standing in a puddle of my own drool.

It took me a minute to get myself together, to reel in the racing thoughts…like why he wanted to know what time I finished work at? Was he planning on meeting me? Was I supposed to wait for him? I had no idea what just happened, but I could feel my heart racing at the thought of seeing him again.

And why wouldn’t I? He was gorgeous, and he definitely seemed interested in me. And after everything that happened to me this year, it felt like a damn good idea.

I took a deep breath and collected myself as best as I could. When I circled back around, I found Trace and Nikki—and now Taylor and the rest of the gang—staring at me in a sea of unhinged mouths and wide eyes.

There was no way I was walking into that pack of wolves. I turned on the balls of my feet and headed straight for the back-house where I would spend the rest of my shift counting down the minutes until closing time.

I managed to avoid Nikki, Trace, and even Taylor for most of the night, keeping them at bay by way of my increasingly convenient job. Everything was going well on that front until closing time reared its highly anticipated head. As soon as the place began to dwindle in bodies (and hiding places), it was clear my run had come to an end, no more so than when I came face to face with Taylor in the kitchen.

“Ok. Spill it,” she said, cornering me at the sink as I brought in another load of dishes.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Dominic Huntington!” she shrieked, alerting everyone within a ten mile radius about our impending conversation.

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