"I ask because years and years ago we used to have an office there. Closed down now," he added and cut off a piece of duck meat before putting it in his mouth.
It wasn't closed down. It was burned down and I know that because I was there all those years ago. I'd held the Molotov cocktail in my hand that had done it. Was he playing with me? Did he know everything?
I sipped my wine and found my voice again.
"Only one sister and my grandmother are still there. Everyone else scattered to the four winds I'm afraid. The town isn't what it used to be."
I looked up at him but he gave no reaction to what I'd said. If he knew anything about what Stone-Black had done all those years ago he wasn't revealing it tonight.
Suddenly I felt angry and stupid at the same time. Of course he knew about what his company had done! How could he not? And here I was allowing myself to be seduced by him. Allowing him to carry me over his shoulder and smack me on the ass. To forget why I was here.
"Why did you leave?" he asked and smiled at me.
"My grandfather died," I answered, unable to stop the harsh tone in my voice. "I was left looking after my grandmother until it got too much. She went into a home."
"I understand," he said and regarded me with his cool eyes.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my fingers clenching around the stem of my wine glass.
He looked at me with concern and then placed his hand on mine. "You're kind and that is a quality second only to honesty. I knew I made the right choice in asking you to be my assistant. The happiness your family has" -at this he waved at my phone- "is something sorely lacking in my family. I admire you and your sacrifice."
He stroked the back of my hand and went back to eating his meal as though he hadn't just undone me completely. He seemed sad and I realized the cold billionaire had a heart in there somewhere. One that had been bruised and hurt so many times that he'd covered it in iron armor.
I took a gulp of wine to steady myself as I felt I was about to cry. No one, not even my happy family, had ever acknowledged me looking after our grandmother. I hadn't been called kind. In fact, one of my sisters had started a huge fight with me when I told her I was moving away to the city. Like I was meant to stay there forever so I could visit our grandmother. Like it was a reverse game of musical chairs and I hadn't stood up quick enough and so I had to stay there for the rest of my life. We'd made up later but the pain of it still felt raw and I missed my grandmother terribly, even as she forgot who I was day by day. How did this man, this man who was said to be cold and calculating see through to the heart of me so easily?
Mr. Stone took my hand and I found myself staring into his eyes. The restaurant vanished and I felt myself being absorbed into him. He was safe. I felt safe.
"Come with me," he said and led me out of there.
*
The car was warm and we cruised along in comfortable silence through the pouring rain. The storm had only worsened while we'd been at dinner, as though the clouds were intent on dropping an entire ocean on the city. I'd given Mr. Stone my address and we were following the GPS. I felt the deep comfort of good food, good wine and getting out of the cold all at once. I wasn't drunk but I'd had enough wine to relax me.
Mr. Stone was calm and quiet as we drove along, seeming to take the terrible weather in his stride. When we were halfway back to my apartment the GPS beeped and indicated that some power lines were down due to the storm and an alternate route was required. We slowed to a stop as the GPS updated, the yellow roads turning red one by one and the time estimate for the trip rising from twenty minutes to three hours.
"You'll stay with me," Mr. Stone said and turned the car around.
It wasn't a question so I didn't answer. If I had, I would have said yes.
*
I awoke when Mr. Stone turned off the engine and found myself outside a gigantic mansion set on a hill. Before I was properly awake, Mr. Stone opened my door and reached in to lift me out of his car. I instinctively clasped my arm around his neck as he pulled me up against his body. I blinked slowly and then closed my eyes, resting my head against him as he carried me up the stairs.
This was ridiculous but it felt so right I never wanted it to end. Let him carry me around from place to place forever just so I could snuggle my head against him.
Inside it was warm and I heard his feet on carpet and then wood before he carried me up a flight of stairs. I opened my eyes at the top as we walked down a long corridor with doors on both sides and a row of chandeliers above us. Like the restaurant there were artworks all down both walls and recessed indirect lighting providing a warm glow.
All good things come to an end and this good thing came to the end at the entrance to an extravagant bedroom. There was a beautiful four-poster bed in the centre with two dark oak stands on either side. The patterned wallpaper featured tiny roses and there were flecks of gold throughout it.
Mr. Stone waved me in and for a moment looked so like the maitre de of Laton that I giggled. He followed me in and pointed out the bathroom attached to the bedroom and the variety of robes available for me.
"Please press the intercom if you need anything and my staff will be happy to oblige," he said and gave a little half-bow, a mirror of the maitre de again.
I stepped closer to him and the smile disappeared from his face. I touched his shirt, felt his hard stomach beneath it.
"And what if I want you, Mr. Stone?"
I admit it wasn't my best line but I was coming out of a night that had me a little unbalanced. He took my hand and held it. I could feel the heat of his palms and I wanted nothing more than him to pull me down on the bed and do whatever he wanted to me.
"I don't sleep with girls who can't consent," he said softly, leaning in close. "And when we're not at work, please call me Jackson."
"Thank you for letting me stay, Jackson. You're too much of a gentleman," I said.
"I'm really not," he said, a strange look coming over his face. "Goodnight, Delilah."
With that, he closed the door and left me.
Can't consent? I only had a few glasses of wine and I'm sleepy but I'm not so tired I don't know what I'm doing. I looked around the room once more and then sat down on the bed. The sheets were incredible - they must have been thread-count a billion. I ran my hands over their softness and suddenly saw what Mr. Stone - Jackson - meant. In this luxurious room with it's amazing wallpaper, bed and everything else, no ordinary girl could keep her head.
I unbuttoned my blouse on the way to the shower, running through the events of the night.