Page 50 of After-Hours Heir

“No,” he said. “But it is dinnertime.”

“I don’t know, I think that you seem a little bit hangry.”

“I do not get…angry when I am hungry.” He realized that his thunderous tone seemed to make that a lie. “I am used to going without food. I do not like it. I wouldn’t choose it. But I spent a substantial part of my childhood hungry. If I did not learn how to adapt and cope with that, then I would be dead.”

She looked stricken by that.

“What?” he asked.

“I didn’t know that you were…that you went without.”

“Did you assume that I came from money?”

“Most very rich people do. And honestly, there isn’t a lot about your personal life online. I know. I’ve googled you.”

“By design, there isn’t a lot about me online.”

He dressed quickly.

“You know, most people don’t have control over that.”

“I’m a ghost,” he said. “Onassis isn’t even my surname. I chose a new one.”

“What?”

“Why would I keep my bastard of a father’s last name? Why would I carry on his legacy? I won’t. Our child, he will carry my name. And it will be my legacy. His. Not any of my ancestors before him. They will die out. As they deserve.”

He realized that he had said more to her just now than he ever had to anyone. About his past. About his feelings. The way that she looked at him… Did she not realize he was not some soft child? Who got fractious when he didn’t eat? He had been deprived of food and water for days at a time. He had been worked to exhaustion often.

He was not…he was not insubstantial, and he was not someone to be teased.

“Let’s go eat,” she said softly.

She was being nice to him, and he didn’t like it. It had been nice a few moments before when they’d been having sex. He didn’t find it necessary now.

It felt like his chest was being split in two, and he didn’t like it.

When they walked into the dining room, dinner was set out in a glorious array.

“It is probably not at its optimum temperature,” he said.

“Christos, I wish that you would talk to me. You’ve suddenly gone very formal and very stiff.”

“This is just how I am. You’re used to seeing me in business meetings.”

“And in text messages. And in bed.”

“It’s different. It was different.”

“Why was it different?”

“It just was,” he said.

He sat down at the head of the table, and he began to dish himself some chicken and vegetables. “I must leave town tomorrow.”

He hadn’t realized that he was going to say that until the words came out of his mouth.

“You…you’re leaving?”