Page 11 of Controlling Natasha

“Well, we’ll find out as we go then.”

“I feel like a spoiled princess.I can’t thank you enough.”I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this was not real.

“Are you ready for dessert?”Edith asks as she bustles into the room.

“Oh.I’m stuffed.”I pat my stomach.

“I bet you’ll have room for a small slice of apple pie with ice cream,” she says.

I can’t believe my mouth waters at the thought.When was the last time I had apple pie?“A small slice.Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.”She rushes around, clearing our plates and returning with huge plates of pie.Small was not in her vocabulary.

Mr.Hoffman chuckles as soon as we’re alone again.“Eat what you can, Natasha.She will overfeed you at every meal.Eat as much as you want, but don’t feel obligated to clear your plate.”

“Okay.”That’s going to be hard.I’m not accustomed to leaving food on my plate.

The pie is delicious, and I wash it down with water before leaning back about to pop.

“Tell me your normal routine, Little one,” Mr.Hoffman inquires.“What time do you usually go to bed and get up?”

“It varies.I usually work in the evenings, either waitressing or at fast food places.So, I often haven’t gone to bed before midnight.Sometimes, I still have homework to do.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen.You don’t need a job anymore.No wonder there are dark circles under your eyes.I assume you’ve also been stressing about finding a place to live.”

“Yes,” I whisper, looking down.

He sits forward.“Take a breath, Little one.You’re in a safe place now.You’ll have a roof over your head and food in your stomach every day.You’ll start to feel more like yourself if you get on a better schedule.Ten o’clock is a much better bedtime.You can unwind and read for a while and then sleep eight hours.”

I bite into my bottom lip.It’s odd how he’s micromanaging me, but it feels good.I’ve never had a figure in my life who paid a bit of attention to whether or not I got enough sleep.

My foster parents were great, and they did the best they could, but they had a lot of kids in the house at all times.Most of my life, I shared a room with two or three girls.No one tucked me in very often or made sure I brushed my teeth or took a bath.I kind of managed on my own and made my own decisions.I was old for my age by the time I was six.I usually had to help take care of younger kids by that age, too.I fed the babies and helped put them to bed.No one helped put me to bed.I didn’t need them to.I was…old.

“Natasha…”

I lift my gaze at the sound of my name so soft from his lips.So kind.Caring.This man I just met today cares about me.

“Bedtime, ten o’clock.Got it?”

A warm feeling races through my body.“Yes, sir.”Something weird happens to me as I hold his gaze and agree to his edict.I’m twenty-two years old.Why do I get warm and fuzzy when this man I just met tells me what to do?

He’s staring at me with the most pleased expression.His eyes are alight.I’m not sure what I said to make him look at me like that, but it feels like something has shifted between us.All I did was agree to his bedtime rule.

“Can you email me a copy of your class schedule so I’ll know when you need to be at school?I’ll forward it to Albert so he’ll be prepared to leave each morning and know what time to pick you up.”

“Yes, sir.Hopefully, they can fix my car, and it won’t cost too much.I don’t want to burden Albert.”

“Albert is beside himself.He likes to be needed.He’s probably out in the garage now waxing the SUV for Monday morning,” Mr.Hoffman teases.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.Now, you need to know, I’m a worrier.I hope I don’t smother you with my overprotectiveness.It’s in my DNA.You’re under my protection, which means I’ll always be concerned about your safety.”

I give him a small smile.“Like not letting me climb the ladder in the library.”

“Exactly.And outside of your class schedule, I’d like to know where you are so I don’t fret.I know you probably have class projects you work on with others, lunch dates, and times you need to be with an adviser or in the library doing research.Can you shoot me a text so I’ll know you’re safe?”

I nod.It’s the oddest request.I should probably be freaked out, but I remind myself this is Professor Arnalt’s oldest friend.He can’t be too weird.Professor Arnalt is someone I hold in extremely high regard.