Guns: The Spencer Book
Page 54
And yet… there’s not.
It’s strange, but I don’t have much time to dwell, because the elevator doors open and I’m once again waved, but not physically guided, into the large living space. It looks just like it did yesterday, so I’m not awed or anything. This kind of luxury is pretty, I like it. But I’m a small-town girl at heart. I’d never be happy with a condo as my forever home.
“Please,” Bobby says as he motions to the table set up in front of the terrace windows. The view is black, with just a few twinkling lights from houses, because we’re facing the mountains. Out here the view is real. The view is nature. It’s got nothing to do with how the colors light up the darkness and create a beautiful facade that covers an ugly city.
When my eyes adjust to the low light the other view comes into focus. Stars. I’d never trade my starry nights for a valley of lights.
Bobby pulls a chair out for me and I sit as he pushes me back in. “You have nice manners,” I say absently as I take in the table.
“Thank you. I come from a prominent Italian family. They were big on manners.”
“Were? You don’t see them?”
He seats himself across from me and shakes his head, essentially ending that line of conversation. So I just take in my surroundings. I’ve been to fancy parties with Spence, mostly having to do with Antoine and Ronin. Their parties are productions. So I’ve seen a fully decked table before. But those people are like family. Their brand of opulence has never felt intimidating.
This brand does. This table says this man is serious about his fine dining.
I can hear people in the kitchen, so I know we’re not alone, and that eases my nerves a little.
“Hungry?” Bobby asks.
“Yes, I really am. I didn’t have time to eat today. We were busy from the minute I went in until the minute I left. I’d still be there working right now if you hadn’t come to collect me.”
He smiles as he grabs his napkin from the table and places it in his lap.
I do the same, sorta embarrassed that I didn’t do it immediately. My manners can’t compare to his. I mean, I have manners. I’m not some Honey-Boo-Boo backwoods, trailer-park redneck. But I’m pretty close. We are most definitely considered white trash around this town.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say back truthfully. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”
He smiles as a waiter appears and fills our glasses with a deep red wine and sets down some bread in a pretty silver basket. “You’re a beautiful single woman. I’m an attractive single man. It’s a simple deduction, don’t you think?”
He lifts his glass and takes a sip of wine to hide his smile.
I fidget in my seat and blow out a long breath, desperately wishing I had brought my e-cigs. I want one. Bad. I settle for a hard swallow and a mental pep talk. “I don’t think I’m here so you can f**k me tonight after you feed me a delicious meal.”
He laughs and sits back in his seat, crossing a leg over a knee and taking another sip of his wine. Totally at ease with my complete unease. “Is that so?”
I nod. God, this man can’t be much older than me—I’d say twenty-eight at the most—but he makes me feel like a child.
He caresses the edge of his wine glass with a fingertip, eliciting a sharp ting from the crystal. “Then why do you think I brought you here?”
I stay silent, wondering how much I should say. I actually do have a theory, but it’s pretty far-fetched.
“You must’ve thought about it, at least? Why would I ask you to dinner if not to get you in my bed afterward?”
“Well…” I look away. I guess this is it. It’s kinda exciting, but at the same time, terrifying. “You want me for something.”
He tilts his head in the slightest of nods, urging me to continue.
“You know I’m friends with… interesting people. People who have a lot of information, which,” I quickly add, “I have no knowledge of. At all. So if you’re looking for some insight into what they’re doing, or what they did in the past, or whatever, I have nothing to give you. I’m not that close to them.”
I sigh and look away. It sucks to admit it, but it’s true. I’m an outside friend, not an inside team member.
“Yes, I can see that from the way Spencer Shrike treats you.”
Yeah, thanks a lot, ass**le. Thanks a bunch for reminding me I’m nothing to him. I mean, I had a great day fantasizing that Spencer cares, and now this jerk has to come in and hand me a reality check.
“They’re a team, those guys. Ronin, Spencer, and Ford. Right?”
“Yeah. And Rook.”
“And Ashleigh Li?”
I can only shrug at that. “I dunno much about her. I’m not even sure I like her. I never liked Ford much, but Rook loves him hard, so I try. But I’m not sure what kind of woman would marry a guy like Ford, to be honest. It bugs me.”
“Is he mean?” When I look over at Bobby, he’s got an eyebrow arched up in confusion. “He doesn’t come off as mean. An ass**le, yeah. But from what I’ve seen, he’s not mean. But maybe I’m wrong?”
I’m careful with my answer because for some reason, I think this really matters. I think that if I say Ford is a mean guy, this might change something. It might change Bobby’s opinion of Ford. My opinion might actually matter.
Huh, that’s refreshing.
It’s strange, but I don’t have much time to dwell, because the elevator doors open and I’m once again waved, but not physically guided, into the large living space. It looks just like it did yesterday, so I’m not awed or anything. This kind of luxury is pretty, I like it. But I’m a small-town girl at heart. I’d never be happy with a condo as my forever home.
“Please,” Bobby says as he motions to the table set up in front of the terrace windows. The view is black, with just a few twinkling lights from houses, because we’re facing the mountains. Out here the view is real. The view is nature. It’s got nothing to do with how the colors light up the darkness and create a beautiful facade that covers an ugly city.
When my eyes adjust to the low light the other view comes into focus. Stars. I’d never trade my starry nights for a valley of lights.
Bobby pulls a chair out for me and I sit as he pushes me back in. “You have nice manners,” I say absently as I take in the table.
“Thank you. I come from a prominent Italian family. They were big on manners.”
“Were? You don’t see them?”
He seats himself across from me and shakes his head, essentially ending that line of conversation. So I just take in my surroundings. I’ve been to fancy parties with Spence, mostly having to do with Antoine and Ronin. Their parties are productions. So I’ve seen a fully decked table before. But those people are like family. Their brand of opulence has never felt intimidating.
This brand does. This table says this man is serious about his fine dining.
I can hear people in the kitchen, so I know we’re not alone, and that eases my nerves a little.
“Hungry?” Bobby asks.
“Yes, I really am. I didn’t have time to eat today. We were busy from the minute I went in until the minute I left. I’d still be there working right now if you hadn’t come to collect me.”
He smiles as he grabs his napkin from the table and places it in his lap.
I do the same, sorta embarrassed that I didn’t do it immediately. My manners can’t compare to his. I mean, I have manners. I’m not some Honey-Boo-Boo backwoods, trailer-park redneck. But I’m pretty close. We are most definitely considered white trash around this town.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say back truthfully. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”
He smiles as a waiter appears and fills our glasses with a deep red wine and sets down some bread in a pretty silver basket. “You’re a beautiful single woman. I’m an attractive single man. It’s a simple deduction, don’t you think?”
He lifts his glass and takes a sip of wine to hide his smile.
I fidget in my seat and blow out a long breath, desperately wishing I had brought my e-cigs. I want one. Bad. I settle for a hard swallow and a mental pep talk. “I don’t think I’m here so you can f**k me tonight after you feed me a delicious meal.”
He laughs and sits back in his seat, crossing a leg over a knee and taking another sip of his wine. Totally at ease with my complete unease. “Is that so?”
I nod. God, this man can’t be much older than me—I’d say twenty-eight at the most—but he makes me feel like a child.
He caresses the edge of his wine glass with a fingertip, eliciting a sharp ting from the crystal. “Then why do you think I brought you here?”
I stay silent, wondering how much I should say. I actually do have a theory, but it’s pretty far-fetched.
“You must’ve thought about it, at least? Why would I ask you to dinner if not to get you in my bed afterward?”
“Well…” I look away. I guess this is it. It’s kinda exciting, but at the same time, terrifying. “You want me for something.”
He tilts his head in the slightest of nods, urging me to continue.
“You know I’m friends with… interesting people. People who have a lot of information, which,” I quickly add, “I have no knowledge of. At all. So if you’re looking for some insight into what they’re doing, or what they did in the past, or whatever, I have nothing to give you. I’m not that close to them.”
I sigh and look away. It sucks to admit it, but it’s true. I’m an outside friend, not an inside team member.
“Yes, I can see that from the way Spencer Shrike treats you.”
Yeah, thanks a lot, ass**le. Thanks a bunch for reminding me I’m nothing to him. I mean, I had a great day fantasizing that Spencer cares, and now this jerk has to come in and hand me a reality check.
“They’re a team, those guys. Ronin, Spencer, and Ford. Right?”
“Yeah. And Rook.”
“And Ashleigh Li?”
I can only shrug at that. “I dunno much about her. I’m not even sure I like her. I never liked Ford much, but Rook loves him hard, so I try. But I’m not sure what kind of woman would marry a guy like Ford, to be honest. It bugs me.”
“Is he mean?” When I look over at Bobby, he’s got an eyebrow arched up in confusion. “He doesn’t come off as mean. An ass**le, yeah. But from what I’ve seen, he’s not mean. But maybe I’m wrong?”
I’m careful with my answer because for some reason, I think this really matters. I think that if I say Ford is a mean guy, this might change something. It might change Bobby’s opinion of Ford. My opinion might actually matter.
Huh, that’s refreshing.
