Page 11 of The Sicilian's Obsession
I said too quickly, "You won't." I was breathing a little faster, so I shoved my burrito back in my mouth, groaning deeply. I noticed Arturo moving in his chair and mildly wondered if the chair was uncomfortable for him. Maybe I should order another one. I mean, who really knew how long Arturo would be staying. I wouldn't want him to be uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat, and I blurted, "I can buy a new chair." I wanted to smack my head on the desk.
Arturo's confusion was palpable, "Excuse me? What do you mean?" I scrambled, trying to get my words right. I didn't want to ruin our brunch, nor did I want to spiral and have a panic attack when I was just making more progress than ever.
"You seem uncomfortable, so I figured it was the chair and that I needed to buy one that was more comfortable for you."
Arturo looked at me like I was crazy. Which again, maybe I was. Then he started laughing, hard, holding his stomach, laughing deep, that kind of laughing.
I turned, worried he was laughing at me.
Before I could leave, his next words stopped me. "It wasn't the chair making me uncomfortable, princess."
I noted his inflection of the way he said princess was different and filed that away to obsess over later.
"Me? I made you uncomfortable. How?" I was wracking my brain, trying to figure out what I had done wrong.
Arturo got his laughter under control upon seeing me so distressed. "I must not have noticed last night because we were eating and watching a movie, but listening to you eat is like listening to porn."
I gasped in horror. My eyes were probably comically wide. This caused Arturo to burst out laughing all over again. His eyes crinkled when he laughed. His large arms held his stomach as he let loose. It was a very attractive look on him.
"I'm so sorry," I groaned then slapped a hand over my mouth, mortified.
Arturo shot me a look I couldn't read. "Don't apologize. I enjoyed you enjoying that." He nodded toward my partially eaten burrito.
I was floored. He was horny. I sent him a knowing glance and he flushed, which was adorable. I'd never had a guy show interest in me sexually, mainly because I never left my house. Especially not someone of Arturo's looks. They didn't make them like him in this small town; that was for sure. I smiled knowingly at Arturo but otherwise let it go. I hated being on display. I also hated feeling like my embarrassing moments were exploited in front of me. I would never do something like that to Arturo. I wouldn't want him to do it to me. It was the whole golden rule for me; treat others the way you'd want to be treated.
Arturo changed the topic, "Can I ask you something?" I nodded my head yes because I had a huge chunk of burrito shoved in my mouth like a squirrel. I probably looked like a chipmunk. "What was your childhood like?" I thought that was an odd topic, but what did I know about holding conversations?
"Pretty normal," I said after swallowing. I thought a little and added, "After my mom died, my dad was really overprotective of me. That's why he hired you. He can't seem to let go."
"How did your mom die?" He put his burrito down, even though there was still half of it left.
"I don't really remember her, and Dad doesn't really talk about her. I just know that she died when I was young. I guess I stopped asking about her once I got older. I'm not really sure. You can't miss a person you don't remember."
Arturo looked sad. I knew I should be more empathetic to my father because he lost his wife, the love of his life. Yet I've never been to her grave. We don't talk about her. There are no photos of her. There was a lot of suspicion about my mom not being around. I just never really focused on that.
Arturo went on, "Have you ever had a traumatizing event in your past? Something that maybe could explain the emails you've been receiving."
I focused on the second half of his statement. I asked, "Have there been more emails?"
"Yes." I felt like he didn't want to share this information with me, and of course, that meant I needed to push.
"Can I see them?" I already knew what he was going to say before he said it.
"No, not after what happened last time."
I murmured, "That was just because I was unprepared."
"You're trying to evade my question." Arturo kept staring at me until I had to look away.
"No, I've lived a picture-perfect life. I think I would remember if I lived through a traumatic event." I knew I was being snarky. Something I have never done in my life, but his question bothered me tremendously.
"What about your flashback?" Arturo asked, bringing up a very good point, one I didn't have the answer to.
"My dad says I have a very overactive imagination." I felt myself getting defensive but couldn't figure out why. It wasn't like Arturo was attacking me or yelling at me. I tried to calm myself down so he couldn't see me getting upset.
"Have you ever told anyone about your nightmares?"
