Page 9 of His Obsession
I hold his gaze because I’m not weak and because something ugly and proud in me refuses to be the first one to look away. There’s a small scar near one eyebrow that only makes him look even more dangerous.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Matteo cuts in smoothly, breaking through the strange static between us. “I was starting to think Nico made you up.”
“Unfortunately for Nico, I am very real,” I quip, sitting down hesitantly next to Sebastian. Based on the half-empty wineglass next to Matteo, this is the only open seat.
Nico puts the bowl of pasta down, then grabs the already open wine bottle on the table and pours some into an empty glass for me.
“Drink,” he commands. “Maybe it’ll make you less difficult.”
“I’m not difficult,” I bristle.
“It almost took an act of war to get you to dinner.” He chuckles before going back to the kitchen to grab the rest of the food.
“Let me help you,” Matteo says, getting up and following him.
Sebastian is watching me intently enough that I feel it all the way down my spine. He looks at me like he’s taking inventory, trying to figure out all of my secrets. It’s unnerving. I take a drink of wine mostly so I have something to do with my mouth besides say something stupid.
When Nico and Matteo come back, we all eat and talk like old friends, even though I’m just meeting Matteo and Sebastian for the first time. That’s one thing about Nico. He never lets anyone feel awkward or left out in his presence.
Sebastian doesn’t talk much at first. Matteo is charming enough for both of them and commands a good portion of the conversation. He’s funny, loud, and openly expressive. Nico laughs more than I’ve seen him laugh in years, and it makes me happy. There was a time when I didn’t think I’d ever see him smile again, let alone laugh.
Sometimes, Matteo or Sebastian will bring up something about work, but they always stay very vague and talk around situations. I’ve always known there were parts of Nico’s professional life he keeps separate from me. Hospitality, nightlife, restaurant investments, security, he’s always kept it wrapped in vague explanations. For my part, I’ve never asked questions that I don’t want answers to.
Tonight, I catch little glimpses of his professional life in the gaps. They mention a club name I recognize. A problem with a manager. Some complaint about numbers from one location and staffing at another. Matteo says something about a meeting downtown tomorrow and Nico mutters that he’d rather put a fork through his eye.
Sebastian speaks only when he has something to say, which means everyone listens when he does. He doesn’t waste words. I catch myself watching him whenever he talks, like he’s the most fascinating man in the world.
He isn’t charming. Not even a little. And yet there’s something disturbingly compelling about a man who says exactly what he means and not much else.
At one point Matteo asks how work is going, and before I can give my usual vague answer, Nico beats me to it.
“She’s trying to land bigger clients,” he says, like he’s my publicist now. “Luxury hotels, bigger corporate accounts, more high-end private stuff.”
I glare at him. “Thank you for that unauthorized introduction.”
“You’re welcome.” He smirks, tipping his wine to me.
“It’s going well.” I shrug. “I’m busy, which is good. A little exhausting, which is also good, supposedly.”
“It is good,” Nico says.
Matteo laughs into his wine. “He’s very proud of you, you know.”
“Please don’t encourage him,” I say with a wary sigh.
“I’m serious,” Matteo says. Then, with a glance toward Sebastian, “And for what it’s worth, Sebastian is always complaining about mediocre event people, so maybe this is useful timing.”
I look from Matteo to Sebastian. Sebastian meets my eyes across the table.
“Good help is hard to find,” he answers wryly.
I almost laugh. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“No,” he answers firmly.
“Charming,” I mutter under my breath.
“I’m not trying to be.”
