Page 68 of Arianna

What changed? I wonder.

A nagging voice in the back of my mind tells me. Perhaps, he has something to say about you taking his child on a shopping spree and maxing out his cards.

On the other hand, maybe it is the fact that right after your trip his kid got sick.

Oh, hell.

* * *

Taking my sweet time walking down the stairs, I halt when the strong aroma of garlic and cheese assaults my nose. Just then, my stomach grumbles and my mouth salivates because of the delicious smell.

The only thing I had to eat all day was a bowl of salad and a mid-afternoon snack.

I am famished, but my stomach is also in knots.

Why did he call me downstairs? And why does he wish to have dinner with me?

It makes no sense.

Not one to back down from a challenge, I came downstairs. A part of me is anxious as to what this all means, but another part of me is curious.

I haven’t seen him in days…

Just when I reach the corner that leads to the dining area, I see him.

Sebastian.

He is sitting at the head of the table with three carton boxes of what I am sure are pizzas in front of him.

Huh.

There is something about the image of a sophisticated Sebastian sitting down on a six-grand, luxurious, white-marble table with the sleeves of his Hermes black dress shirt rolled up, with what I know for certain is a silver Jaeger-LeCoultre watch that costs more than most of the cars in his garage, on his wrist, eating something as simple as pizza, that is amusing.

And extremely attractive.

The thirsty bitch of a devil on my shoulder gives her unsolicited opinion.

I am crazy about pizza.

Three-meat pizza, to be exact.

Simple, yet delicious.

The fact that it is on the menu tonight makes me ecstatic, mostly because I am getting tired of the healthy food I am being served here when Benjamin is not the one cooking.

Out of habit, my hand comes up to my hair to brush my bangs from my eyes as I enter the room, and my eyes clash with emotionless gray ones.

“You are late.” He says while he motions for me to sit next to him, where a plate is already waiting for me.

“Oh, am I?” I feign ignorance but come on…the man only had to wait five minutes. It is not as if I made him wait for more than twenty like I wanted yet couldn’t bring myself to. The bitch guilt is one of the many feelings annoying the hell out of me lately, and it is always present where Sebastian is concerned. I feel… indebted to this man, and it kills me.

“I don’t appreciate tardiness.” His voice is rough and laced with annoyance.

I take the offered seat and turn my face toward his. “So I’ve heard.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes but says nothing else as he begins to pour himself a glass of Dom Perignon. Of course.

The expensive wine couldn’t be missing.

---