Page 93 of His Obsession

“I think you know what my intentions are, Lucy.” He wasn’t going to give in to Lucy’s interrogation. I knew he didn’t like her much, but he was always cordial with her, I think, for my sake.

“I do, but since someone kept you a secret, I didn’t get to do this before. Just make sure Liz comes back thoroughly seduced and fucked. I don’t need her crying on her pillow.” My cheeks turned bright red, and I thought I might need to apply more foundation.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Liz won’t be coming back here tonight, Lucy. You like to watch a little more than I’m comfortable with,” he shot back at her.

“Where is your adventurous side?”

“I have plenty of adventure in my life. I don’t need you trying to critique our sex life from behind the closed door.” I coughed and couldn’t stop my fit of laughter. Ever try laughing and curling your hair at the same time? It’s not a good idea. I nearly burned my scalp off.

I unplugged my curling iron and set it in the sink. “I’m done. Let’s go before you two say something I’ll never be able to wash from my brain.” Alek shot up from his chair, eager to leave, and made it to me in three quick strides.

“You look beautiful as always, baby girl,” he whispered in my ear, giving my lobe a nip.

Tingles returned between my legs, and I chewed my lip.

“And you look good enough to eat, Mr. Jackson,” I replied.

“Gross. Get a room,” Lucy interrupted.

I chuckled. “Bye, Lucy.” I waved at her, and we made our way out to his car as I tried not to stumble in my heels.

Mrs. Wilson sat outside on her porch, watching the birds fly into the tree and fight over the birdseed she threw down. I gave Alek’s arm a pat, “I’ll meet you at the car in a second. I’m going to talk to her quick.”

I broke away and took a seat on the chair next to her. “Hello, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Hi, Dear, I see you’ve found your happiness,” she said, eying Alek standing by the car, playing with his cuff links.

Mrs. Wilson and I have had one too many conversations about my outlook on life, and she would always have something positive to say to cheer me up. This time, I didn’t need any cheering up; I couldn’t be happier.

I followed her gaze and watched Alek. A smile appeared on his face when he caught me gawking at him. I glanced away from him and back to Mrs. Wilson, unable to take the grin from my face. “Yeah, I have. Haven’t I?”

I asked Mrs. Wilson how she was doing and how her day had been before I made my way back to Alek and climbed in the car. Mrs. Wilson was like a grandmother I never had. I cared about her, and amid all the chaos in my life lately, I hadn’t taken the time to sit with her and see how she was doing. I felt terrible about that.

“What is a fad you didn’t like when you were growing up?” I asked as we hit a pothole.

I think he knew where this was going because a chuckle rumbled, and he shook his head. “Bellbottom jeans. They were ugly, and you were always tripping on them while trying to run.”

It was amazing how hard it was to come up with questions when that seemed to be all I ever did lately. I had to resort to the internet to find some of the stupidest questions. A lot I already knew the answer to. I blasted him with ridiculous questions like cats or dogs, Godsmack or Celine Dion. When he said neither, he surprised me; I thought for sure he’d be a Godsmack fan. When we pulled up to the valet parking, I had run out of questions, and the silence was awkward. It felt like a first date.

The valet attendant opened my door and helped me step out. He ran around to Alek and gave him a receipt in exchange for his keys. Alek slipped him some bills, and I wrapped my arm around his while walking inside.

The maître d’ was a tall young woman with pasty white skin and brown hair. She smiled when she saw Alek, not even glancing at me. I couldn’t even hate her for it. I’d do the same thing.

“Right this way, Mr. Jackson,” she said, showing us to our table.

Zigzagging through the clothed tables, we found our red-backed seats in the back. The restaurant was busy, and I liked this spot. It was private and quieter from the loud conversations happening around us.

A man in a perfectly pressed uniform stopped at our table. “Do you have a particular wine you’d prefer for dinner tonight, Mr. Jackson?” The man gave a slight nod to Alek and smiled.

“Let’s have aRothschild Cabernet Sauvignon—the bottle, please.”

“Right away, sir.” He scurried away to get the expensive red wine.

I bet he was just thrilled to death at the tip he was expecting towards the end of dinner. My head was on a swivel, taking in everyone having their own conversations, wondering what happened in their lives to bring them to this exact moment in time. It was a weird game I played when I would have time to think. I tried to put myself in someone’s shoes and imagine what their life was like.

“Do you know what you want to eat?” Alek’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I looked down at the fancy printed paper menu and realized there weren’t any prices. “I was going to go with rigatoni with sausage. Have you had it?”