Page 7 of Dominic Powers Duet Box Set
“Would you like me to order for you?” I ask, tilting my head to the side and narrowing my eyes at her. She suddenly seems very uneasy and unsure of herself.
“If you don’t mind. I trust your judgment. The lunch you chose for us was delicious,” the relief in her voice is tangible and my curiosity is piqued.
I order the special of the day and another glass of wine for us both. We return to a normal, get-to-know-you type of conversation that flows easily, and I am again reminded how easy our first day working together seemed. There were no awkward moments and no forced niceties or uncomfortable silence. At times, it felt like I was working with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. It felt comfortable but new at the same time.
This makes her uneasiness just now even stranger to me. I decide to dismiss it and continue our friendly dinner without any confrontation. I normally meet any challenge head-on and ask the difficult questions; however, her demeanor tells me she may take it harshly. The waitress returns with our meals and Sophia eyes her meal apprehensively.
“Do you not like Ahi tuna?” I ask, careful to keep my tone carefree since she looks a little scared. “You can order anything you like.”
“No, I’m sure this is fine. I’ve just never had it before but I’d like to try it.” I smile reassuringly, “If you don’t like it, I really don’t mind sending it back and getting whatever you want. Just say the word.”
With my fork in hand, I begin to eat and notice, from my peripheral vision, that she’s watching me intently before she picks up her fork and begins to eat, mimicking my movements. I freeze midair as an old memory resurfaces, giving me the oddest feeling of déjà vu. The thought is so preposterous that it’s not even worth another second of my time.
“So, what do you think?” I ask between bites.
“This is so good! I don’t know why I’ve waited so long to try it!” She begins to consume the rest of her food and makes soft, mewling noises with each new taste. My own food waits as I watch and listen to her for a moment. Shaking my head and smiling to myself, I quickly reclaim my good sense and finish my meal.
“That was delicious, Dominic. Thank you so much for dinner,” Sophia says as we wait for the valet to bring my car around.
“You are so welcome, Sophia. I’m pleased you enjoyed it.”
The attendant pulls up with my car and I open the passenger door for her. She smiles and slightly bows her head before getting in. At least she doesn’t argue over it this time. The GPS is once again guiding me to her address and I start to make small talk with her on the short drive.
“Do you live in an apartment or did you buy a house?” I ask.
“Just a small apartment. It’s really not much to look at,” she says with a hint of humility.
“As long as it keeps you safe—that’s what matters.”
My alarm rises when she doesn’t respond to that statement. “Sophia, is it not a safe for you to live?”
“I’m not sure. There are some men that hang around outside the building and they make me uncomfortable,” she responds, her voice low and fearful.
“Have they tried to approach you?”
“They…they make catcalls and stuff like that toward me. Say things that unnerve me,” she answers but keeps her head turned away from me.
I don’t like the feeling I’m getting about this place where she lives. My foot presses harder on the gas pedal and the landscape flies by outside. My parents have always been adamant about the ways a man should treat and respect a lady. It’s innate to me now to stand up for those who need my help. The thought ofanyonemistreating Sophia in any way makes my blood boil, butespeciallymen who are obviously bigger and stronger and like to abuse their natural power.
When we pull onto her street, I’m instantly on guard and can’t believe my eyes. Her apartment is in the worst part of town, amongst the gangs and the drug deals conducted in plain view on the street corners. Her apartment building is run down and covered in graffiti. Garbage and litter is strewn all about, dilapidated cars line the streets, and all eyes are on us. Sophia fidgets nervously in the passenger seat as she looks at the entrance to her building—there are several guys blocking the door, daring her to leave the safety of the car.
“Sophia, you arenotstaying here. Is there anything in your apartment that you need immediately?” my tone is adamant and unyielding.
“Just my clothes and toiletries. There’s nothing else of value in there.”
“Then we will come back later and pack your things,” I say definitively, not giving her an opportunity to say no.
“Dominic, I don’t have anywhere else to go. And I need my clothes for work tomorrow,” the panic in her voice is rising and the color has drained from her face.
“I’ll take care of it, Sophia,” I say, determined to keep her from that rat-infested, condemned building and from the men leering at her from the doorway. If their reaction is any indication, they no doubt have vile plans in store for her. That is something I am not willing to leave to chance. Within minutes, we are back on the highway and heading toward the North Dallas area.
Dialing the head of my security team through the Bluetooth in my car, Nick Tucker answers, “Yes, Mr. Powers?”
“Tucker, I have a new employee we need to set up in one of our condominiums. Can you send someone over immediately and have it prepared? She will also need some clothes and toiletries. Have Mrs. Hernandez meet us over there so she can get whatever Miss Vasco needs,” I instruct.
“Everything will be ready by the time you get there,” Tucker promises
“I also need a team to go to her current apartment and pack all of her belongs. I will send you the address.”
