Page 21 of Controlling Natasha

“Simone has a car.She’ll pick me up.”

“Mmm.”He takes a bite and slowly chews it before swallowing.I think he does so to buy some time in order to decide what to say next.“You better check the movie times before you go, Little one.Some movies start kind of late.”

“We will.”I squirm a little, as usual.I’m finding there’s nothing I enjoy more than pushing him so that he’s forced to Daddy me.

“I’ll have Albert get you a handheld pepper spray for your purse.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“It’s going to be chilly.Be sure to dress warmly.”

“I will, Sir.”

He lifts his fork and points it at me.“No drinking alcohol.”

“Yes, Sir.”My ears are hot as he continues to stare at me.

“I’m serious, Natasha.Simone absolutely cannot be drinking if she’s driving, and you don’t have any experience with alcohol, so you don’t know how it will affect you.Statistically, girls are far more vulnerable when they’re under the influence of alcohol.They make poor choices and don’t pay close enough attention to their surroundings.”

“We won’t be drinking, Sir.I promise.”I’m a smart girl.I know he’s right.His presentation is, of course, outrageous, as usual, but I’ve never had alcohol, so I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea how it might affect me.

It’s not that I’m a prude.But I only turned twenty-one last year, and I certainly couldn’t have afforded alcohol before coming to live here.There’s no way I would use the allowance Mr.Hoffman gives me to buy drinks.I use it sparingly and responsibly.

Mr.Hoffman sets his silverware down and leans back in his chair.I can tell he’s not excited about my plans.I’m not surprised, but it is enlightening watching him inwardly freak out over my announcement.Even if I were twelve, it wouldn’t warrant this sort of overprotectiveness.He’s in deep Daddy mode, and he has no idea what to do to manage me.I’ve never gone out at night since I moved in.Watching him silently panic as he tries to look relaxed and calm is fascinating.

For the first time, I wonder where his intense fear about my safety comes from.Something must have happened in his past to make him so concerned about me leaving the house at night.He’s a controlling man all the time, but I suddenly know there’s a reason for it.It has nothing to do with me.Someone in his past got hurt.

Now I wonder if I’m completely misreading him.Maybe he’s not a Daddy at all.He’s just a nervous nellie.I don’t want to ask him about it right now.

“How was class today?”

His abrupt change of subject has me stiffening.I push my mashed potatoes around the plate, not meeting his gaze.“Good.How was work?”Maybe I can turn the conversation back to him so I don’t have to compound my lie.So far, this isn’t a lie.I did have class today, just not this afternoon.

Why do I feel like a horrible person?It was a tiny white lie.Not important.I was still in Albert’s car at four, as usual.All I did was use the time to talk to Simone instead of sitting in class.

There’s no reason why I couldn’t have just told him I was having coffee with Simone.I think I only did it because I wanted to walk on the wild side.Apparently, my wild side isn’t very wild if even the tiniest, unnecessary lie makes me feel this remorseful.I need to get out of here before he asks me something specific about class.

“I’m kind of tired.I think I’ll head up to bed,” I declare.When I force myself to meet his gaze so I don’t look guilty, I find him smiling at me in the strangest way.I shiver.Somehow, I’m certain he knows I’m lying.He’s not calling me out on it for some reason, but he knows.

Am I that transparent?I push my chair back and rise.

“Do you have all your homework done?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Okay.Good night, Little one.”He doesn’t move to stand, which is unlike him.He usually walks me up to my room or, at least, leaves the dining room with me if he’s returning to his office.

“Good night, Sir.”I flee the room as if a fireball is chasing me.I don’t breathe well until I’m in my own room with the door shut.Even then, I pace for a few minutes, running my fingers through my hair.

I’m a terrible liar.I can’t stand the stress.I’ll never do it again.I’m not sure I’ll live through itthistime.

I quickly change into my nightgown, brush my teeth, and crawl under the covers.It’s only eight o’clock.There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep yet, but I don’t intend to.I send a text to Simone.

Can you talk?

My phone rings a few seconds later, and I answer it quickly.“Hey.”I sound breathy.

“Hey, you.How’d it go when you got home?”

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