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"Or, maybe it’s a way for you to avoid facing the trauma you’ve been through?" The words are out before I can help myself. And…maybe that’s good. Maybe, he needs to hear it from someone. Only, the way he firms his jaw and narrows his gaze on me indicates he’s far from happy with what I said. It’s easy to see the faults in someone else. It’s much more difficult when you’re on the receiving end.
"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that."
"No, you shouldn’t have, but then, I don’t expect anything from you but the unfiltered truth. It’s refreshing, especially when compared to how most people prefer to be evasive about the thing that’s bothering them the most."
"That’s me, unfiltered." I raise a shoulder. "It’s gotten me into trouble more than once."
"It shows you have a pure heart." He frowns, as if he’s not happy about what he’s said.
"Don’t worry, I won’t hold what you said against you." I allow myself a small smile.
He holds my gaze. "Going back to your earlier comment… We don’t know each other that well, which is why you're here in the first place."
"I’m here to find out more about you for the profile," I correct him.
"I’d like to propose a quid-pro-quo. You get to find out things about me for the profile and I get to know things about you so we can work better together as a team."
"And if I say no to the latter?"
"Are you saying no?" The skin around his eyes creases. Clearly, he’s amused by the possibility of me denying him something.
"I’m saying"—I stab my thumb over my shoulder—"I’m hungry. Aren’t you going to feed me?"
* * *
"You like James Hamilton’s food?"
I survey the plate of food he’s placed in front of me. It holds a burger and fries, the posh version—my favorite meal. I glance up at him. "How did you know?"
He raises a shoulder.
"Did Abby tell you?”
He doesn’t reply, and I assume that’s how he found out. I’m not sure how I feel about him finding that out. On the other hand, he made the effort of asking her. He heads back inside and returns in a few seconds with his own plate. I’m seated at a table that’s been set up for two on one of the terraces adjoining his penthouse. Yes, there's more than one. The one I’m on adjoins the kitchen. It has spectacular views of the city and is set up with patio heaters. I’d peeked into the kitchen to find him pulling the food from warming trays carrying the Michelin-starred chef’s logo. Knight places his own plate of food opposite me, then takes his seat. "I’ve known James since university."
"Along with Cade and Declan?"
He nods.
"You’re close to Cade and Declan, aren’t you?"
"They’re like brothers," he confesses.
"But you haven’t been spending time with them."
He narrows his gaze. "You’ve been taking to Abby?"
"Guilty." I hold up a hand. "Sorry, it’s none of my business."
He rubs the back of his neck. "I know my sister is worried, but you can reassure her, I'm doing fine."
I glance at the view then back through the doorway and through his kitchen to what I can see of his duplex penthouse. "You seem to be doing more than fine."
"You like the space?"
"It’s gorgeous. I’ve never been this high in London before." Notably, there aren't any paintings or art or any other form of creative work on the walls, no pictures or anything that hints at this being his personal space. But I’m not going to tell him that.
"This is the highest penthouse in the city," he informs me.
