Page 38 of Read Between The Lines

It would be easy to be flattered by his generous manner of address, but I suspected he was like this with everyone he spoke to, and behind the apparently laid-back air of charm, I could tell that I was being carefully assessed. I’d also noted his not-so-subtle reference to being well-off, as I think I was meant to. It was probably part of his usual patter, but judging by his expensive-looking watch and extremely well-tailored suit, I thought he probably wasn’t exaggerating his well-to-do status. If he had no financial motive, then he was unlikely to be Scammer Brian. Unless he was, and he was getting a kick out of manipulating people online. I wouldn’t be completely surprised by that. On the surface, he seemed to be entertainingly harmless, but something about him put me on my guard. I decided he wasn’t in the clear yet.

‘I suppose, like you, I was looking to make new connections in the city,’ I replied. ‘I’ve lived here for several years, but I’m a writer, which can sometimes be a solitary business. It’s harder to meet people when you’re not doing a standard nine-to-five role.’

Marc nodded. ‘I concur. A writer? How simply marvellous.’ That definitely sounded patronising to me, but I smiled politely back at him. ‘I’m a lecturer at the university,’ he continued. ‘Now that the powers that be have decided that students are most definitely off limits, it does reduce one’s dating pool somewhat.’

He laughed again, a throaty chuckle which made me want to shudder. I fought to keep control of my features. How could the man complain so casually about not being able to date his students? Never mind the fraudster I was seeking, here was another type of predator waltzing around in plain sight.

I wanted to walk away immediately, but the rules of the evening dictated I was stuck for the next three minutes, unless I wanted to create a scene. It didn’t feel worth it. Yet.

‘Have I shocked you?’ he asked. ‘Don’t worry, you’re much more my type. The students can get so needy. Tiresome, really. But I can tell that your needs would be quite different.’

The affable gentleman routine had all but disappeared now, replaced by sheer unashamed sleaziness.

I pushed my chair back an inch, preparing to leave.

‘Let me see if I can discover what those needs might be,’ said Marc. I’d like to say he was unaware of the effect he was having on me, but unfortunately it was the opposite, and that was clearly part of the appeal. ‘Show me your palm. I may be a Physics professor, but trust me when I say my knowledge of the physical is just as good.’

Before I could react, he’d taken hold of my right hand and pulled it towards him with a surprisingly hard grip.

‘Erm, can I?’ I tried to remove my hand from his grasp, but he was determined not to let go.

He traced his index finger along my palm.

‘They do say that, for women, the right hand shows the traits you’re born with and the left hand is the experience you’ve accumulated throughout your life. It’s always interesting to see how much experience a woman has. I shall compare the two palms in a minute.’

‘I’d really rather you didn’t,’ I said. I glanced around, gauging my best route out of this situation.

‘This is your heart line,’ he continued, ignoring my protestations completely. He was now digging his nail into my skin as he traced the lines. It wasn’t quite painful, although it was certainly uncomfortable, but if I snatched my hand away now, I would probably get scratched in the process. The five minutes must be nearly up, surely?

‘Interesting. This crease in your palm is telling me that you fall in love easily. Lucky old me.’ He looked up briefly and I nearly flinched at the calculating expression in his eyes. ‘Hmm, but the way it touches your life line tells me that your heart is broken easily too. Not a great combination, right? Poor old Kath.’

Despite the fact that I knew Marc was making the whole thing up, what he was saying was too close to the truth for me. Yet another reason to bring this situation back under control.

‘Perhaps we should move on to another topic,’ I suggested. ‘Have you…’

I was about to ask him another question aimed at advancing my investigation, but he took the words right out of my mouth by moving his steely grip further up my arm.

‘Sexy tattoo. Goodness me, your pulse really is beating fast for me,’ he said, pressing hard against my skin.

The strength of his hand wrapped around my wrist was bruising. I wanted to retort that the reason my heart was racing was because he was frightening me rather than because of any erotic reaction, but I had a horrible feeling that expressing my fear might be even more of a turn-on for him. I was just assessing how best to extract myself from his grip and the situation altogether, when he let out a surprisingly high-pitched wail.

‘The lady asked you to let go.’

Leo had appeared behind Marc, grabbing his arm and twisting it up behind his back. Judging by the puce colour Marc’s face was turning, it was not a comfortable hold. But despite this, Marc kept his grip on my wrist with his other hand.

‘Steady on, old chap,’ said Marc. ‘You’re interrupting my date.’

‘You’re damn right I am,’ said Leo. ‘In my opinion, dates should be mutually enjoyable, and it’s very clear to me that this lady is not enjoying herself.’

‘I’m not. But it’s okay, I’m fine,’ I insisted. ‘Let’s not make a scene. I can handle this. Marc, please will you let go of me?’

Marc completely ignored me, as unfortunately did Leo.

‘I’ll ask you nicely one more time, let go,’ he said. His voice was calm and measured but there was an air of controlled threat beneath his words. I’m not sure what was making me more cross– the fact that Leo was interfering when I really didn’t need his help, or mortifyingly, that I was actually rather turned on by his action.

I made a conscious effort to lean into the righteous feminist rage and frowned at him, telegraphing with all my might that he needed to take things down a notch. Heads were turning towards us, the room becoming quieter as people leaned forward to eavesdrop on what was happening. So much for my plan for incognito investigating. This whole embarrassing confrontation was clearly going to be the subject of everyone’s conversation for the rest of the night.

I twisted my wrist, sensing that Marc might be about to loosen his grip, but just as I completed the move, Leo pushed Marc’s chair forward, effectively trapping him between it and the table. He simultaneously leapt towards me and wrapped his arm around my waist, whispering something in my ear that I couldn’t properly process, and hustled me out of the bar before I was fully aware of what was happening.

---