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“I’m merely laying the foundations at the moment. When the time is right, you will know.”
“When it’s too late for me to do anything?” I respond. Callan eyes me briefly as he cuts into his steak and lifts it, chewing thoughtfully.
“You want out. I’ll get you out, end of. Everything else in between is for me to worry about. You just need to be ready to deal with your new life.”
“Which will be?” I laugh. He gives me half the information, never quite offering what I need.
“Miles from here and as someone else.”
“And what will happen to Zara Reid?” I say quietly.
“Who?” He grins.
Rolling my eyes, I huff out a sigh and lean back, watching him. I want to ask about his past, but Callan would never share that information with me. I have to constantly remind myself this is a means to an end and that each day I’m with Callan isn’t to cement myself in this life, but to exit it into a new one.
“Very funny. I’m going to see Oscar tomorrow. We’re going to hit a few bars,” I say, moving some salad about. I’ve been looking forward to seeing my friend.
“That's not how this month works.” His bite has me raising my brow and glaring at him.
“It’s not going to work like this either.” My reply has Callan’s hand fisting.
“Mine for a month,” he reminds me.
“Callan, I can see my friend.”
“Not that one.” Callan tilts his head and smirks at me, saying, “Feel free to see any other friends.” He knows that Oscar is the only person I socialise with regularly.
“You're an arsehole.”
“Noted,” he chuckles, shoving another mouthful of steak into his mouth. Callan and I decline dessert, but we stay for a little while in the private dining room we were shown into. It surprises me how many restaurants have separate dining rooms. I’m used to being in the open with Oscar or my agent. Callan really does skirt the shadows. He is a dark angel watching the world happen all around him whilst never being noticed, handled with respect, and feared by those unfortunate enough to be associated with him. “You’re angry with me,” he states, looking at me across the table.
“I’m frustrated. You won’t tell me what’s going on with my situation. I can’t see my friend, and if I’m going to disappear, I’d like to see him before I fall off the face of the earth,” I snap pointedly at him. Surely he can understand that? He and Stalin are close,and he certainly trusts him, so he should be able to put himself in my shoes and be more empathetic.
“It’s better for everyone this way. Oscar will blame me, so this way you can escape guilt-free,” he says with finality, standing.
“I take it dinner’s over then?” I growl sarcastically. I stand too and wish I could at least gain some control back. He is thwarting me at every turn, stalling, and manipulating things to suit him.
“You’re pissy as fuck. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Funny you're the only person to bring that ugly trait out of me.” I give him a brittle smile and adjust the hem of my cocktail dress. It has a deep plunge V-neck and hits just past my knee. I’m ignoring him astutely and jump when his finger lands low between my breasts.
“You asked me to make you disappear, and this was our agreement. If you can’t cope with it, then I suggest we part ways, Zara.” His face is inches from mine, and his jaw is a stiff square as he stares at me threateningly. “The details are irrelevant,” he rasps, moving one side of my dress aside, revealing my breast. Moving his finger, he runs a soft circle around my nipple before lifting his brow for a reply.
“Yes, sir.” I take his finger and remove it, concealing myself and turning my back on him. My heels clack and drown out the sound of his footsteps. He is always so quiet. His arm scoops me up and holds me off the floor to his chest.
“Quit being a mardy bitch.” He nips my neck. “I’ve asked Edward to put the hot tub on for when we get back.” Edward, the ghost. I’ve never seen the man, not even once.
“Whatever pleases you,” I droll out meekly.
“Don't be too compliant. I’ve recently found it a turn off,” he mutters, placing me back on my feet and requesting the bill.
Both Callan and I are quiet, tension brimming between us, and I’m battling with the compulsion to constantly fight him back or submit to him completely. To let go of the residue of fear and the small dose of sadness I am feeling over leaving this world behind, leaving Oscar behind. I know he wants to relax in the hot tub and despite wanting to piss him off, I can’t think of anything better than sitting under the stars and letting the water massage all my aches away. As soon as we enter the apartment, I head straight for the en-suite and cleanse my face as Callan peers in the mirror.
“Do you want a drink?” His tone is softer now, light and not edged with tension or annoyance.
“Tonic or water is fine,” I reply just as politely through the glass. With a simple nod, he is gone again. I make sure my face is clean and clear before selecting a bikini from the drawer Callan has set aside for me. It’s a deep olive green with gold accents, and I love it. It really makes my eyes pop. I walk down to the main living area, swallowing a smile when Callan double-takes. It's a lot cooler outside than I remember, so I get in quickly, dragging my hair into a short ponytail, and relax back in the bubbling water. The balcony is bigger than my garden at my townhouse, and behind the vine-covered screen, I can see the twinkle of London’s nightlife dancing to life. Twisting, I rest on my hands and look out on the streets below. It’s beautiful, and for now, I’m glad to be nothing more than a speck on this planet. No one knows where I am. I haven't had to deal with the paparazzi in days, and to keep Oscar afloat of any day-to-day business, I have sent him the odd picture to upload on Instagram. I lean over and grab my phone and snap an image for him. I send it and promise to meet him tomorrow for lunch if he is still free. Callan can fuck off. He sends a simple ‘x’ back, and I know we will cement our plans in the morning.
Callan joins me a few moments later and flicks a remote, putting some music on quietly. I reach to grab our drinks so he can get in. His big body takes up most of the space, and after trying to manoeuvre my feet out the way, I give up and twist into his lap, holding his drink up for him to take.
