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I agree. But I can't tell him that. "Well, I could use a little boring. You're drunk. Go back to our table and I'll talk to you later."
His lip curls and my insides do a backflip. When did his arrogant, smug grin become something that would endear him to me? "I've only had one sip, darling. To get the courage to come here and talk to you."
This time I audibly guffaw.
If there was ever a man who never had ever experienced a second of insecurity when it comes to women, it's the man standing in front of me. All sleek blond hair, chiseled cheekbones, eyes like blue gemstones. And a smirk that makes you want to kiss him and slap him both at once.
"Shut up. Don't tease me about the kiss, it's not funny," I hiss, embarrassed by his effect on me. "I have to go back to work."
"In a minute." He takes a step forward and pins me against the door frame and his chest. "I don't know what the fuck is going on between us. I'm more confused than anyone, trust me. But I'm not a coward. Kissing you, it did something to me, it broke something, or fixed something, I don't know. But I think it did something to you as well." His hand ghosts my chin and brands me with its ectoplasm. "And you don't know me very well if you don't think I'm going to expend every moment trying to find out what that is. Imeantthat kiss, Clarissa, don't you dare think for a single second that I didn't." His words incinerate any semblance of pretension between us. "Tell me you didn't want me to kiss you again, tell me that it meant nothing, but don't tell me that it didn't fuck with my head. I would never use your feelings against you, I'm a better man than that. Don't you fucking forget it."
He takes a step back and I can finally breathe again.
We stare at each other, me in disbelief, him in nervous apprehension.
"Um, Clarissa?" A meek voice cuts through the tension between us.
Without looking away from Matthias, I say, "What can I do for you, Clementine?"
Poor girl has been my messenger all night. She's probably going to ask to be relieved of hostess duties. "Um, there's a man here to see you. He says he's the landlord."
I blink, cutting the connection between me and Matthias, and glance over at my employee. She looks worried, and it sends a streak of worry through my body. I flick my eyes back to Matthias, who frowns.
"Why is he here?" he asks.
"Damned if I know. I've only met him twice, once when I signed the papers and then when I had trouble with some of the doors. He helped show me some tricks on how to open them." A visit at 10 p.m. is hardly going to be good news.
"Um, what should I tell him?" Clementine asks.
"I'll be right out, Clementine. Thank you."
"Clarissa," Matthias says, his hand catching my wrist as I push past him. "We're not done."
I wave my hands at him, pushing him back. "You. Stay here. We'll talk later."
I follow Clementine out, and the landlord is standing there in the front entrance. "Ms. Masters," he says when he sees me, eyes serious.
"Yes, good evening, Mr. Black. How can I help you?"
He wrings his fingers, obviously uncomfortable. Well, that makes two of us. "I'm sorry to have to ask this but, I was wondering, is anyone living here?"
My mind empties. "I'm sorry?"
He grimaces. "It's not just you, Ms. Masters. There have been some anonymous reports that there are people living in some of the units on this strip. And I just wanted to make sure that yours wasn't one of them. That's against the lease agreement. We're not in a residential zone, and this building is not up to residential code. So, if someone is living here, I'm sorry, I'd have to evict you and I really don't want to do that. It's against the law. It's not my choice, unfortunately." He looks genuinely sorry. I wonder how many of these conversations he's had to have. And if anyone else was actually living in their building, like I was.
But I still shake my head. "Er, no. Of course not. Um, this is purely a place of business."
I'm not sure if he's not convinced or if he's just naturally predisposed to distrust. It happens. "Okay. As long as you're sure. I really don't want either of us to get in any trouble." It sounds like a warning.
I don't even have a chance to lie again though, because Matthias steps in behind me. "Sir, I suggest you leave now. I don't appreciate you questioning my fiancée. She lives with me. Why would anyone be living here?" Matthias's presence strangely calms me. His chest is warm against my back.
"Yes, of course. Again, I was asking everyone. Have a good evening, Ms. Masters. And Mr—"
"Matthias Baxter," he says coolly.
Mr. Black pales and then apologizes as he backs out of the club.
When we're alone, he leans in. "You'll come back to my apartment. I don't want to say another word about it," Matthias says, his voice tight, and then leaves me to return to my table.
