Page 32 of Bargains with Benefits
He slumped forward in his chair, resting his head in hishand, his elbow on the table. The posture looked so utterly out of place in this fancy establishment.
My anger receded—a little.
“I still don’t think it’s proof,” he said with some exasperation. “He asked why nothing about the school had been announced. He indicated they had an agreement. Nothing he said directly ties him to trying to prevent the school from being built.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “It doesn’t look good.”
Vincent lifted his head, rolling his shoulders back to slip into his usual confidence like he’d suddenly realized he’d let too much show. I couldn’t help but wonder how much he kept bottled up beneath his exterior of propriety.
“I know your father is a sensitive subject,” he hedged.
“Please, don’t stop now,” I said more sarcastically than intended. “I was the one who brought the topic up.”
“Do you think he’d do something like this? Is he so against...” His sentence trailed off, and he held my gaze, something like sadness lined his face.
Is he so against you?That was what Vincent had been about to say. I shook off the hurt. At the end of the day, I didn’t know much about Darius. I probably needed to admit that to Vincent.
“As I’ve said, my relationship with Darius is near non-existent. I’m still working on how precisely I’ll fulfill my end of our bargain, so I’m not sure I know him well enough to judge.” I sighed. “I know he came to the village where I was raised, when I was old enough to test for magic. He didn’t return when he found I had none.”
Vincent’s hand stretched and flexed into a fist on the tabletop. I wondered if he was upset, or if he was wishing he had a quill to take notes. Maybe this was an eyewitness interview for his future piece.
He leaned forward as if he’d say something private, but wewere already as secluded as we could be. I didn’t think I could handle whatever would be next to slip from his lips. I thanked the gods for perfect timing as the server approached our table.
“Wonderful to see you, Mr. Andiveron,” she said, before smiling courteously at me. “The chef has requested to give you his newest creations. If you’re not opposed.” The server’s gaze remained on Vincent, clearly communicating that it was his decision. My heart flipped when his gaze met mine.
“Luna?” he asked. “Do you want to select our own meals? Or take the chef’s recommendations?”
I was already running on fumes. We hadn’t been here long, and I was emotionally and mentally drained. Deciding what to order at this restaurant that already made me feel uncomfortable was one decision too many. “I’m happy to take the recommendations.”
Vincent nodded to the waitress as if my answer was ours—together.
Bringing us right back into dating territory.
“Vincent,” I said, “don’t you think…”
He canted his head, preparing for my question, and a strand of his thick, dark brown hair fell over his eye. I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t explain my actions, especially when I was about to ask him about this whole evening and our last day together feeling very much date-like instead of bargain-like. Still, my fingers had other ideas. They crossed the table and pushed the unruly strand back into place. His wind wrapped around my finger, and he leaned into the touch, tilting his head ever so slightly into my palm.
I was in so much trouble.
Snatching my hand back when I finally regained control of my limbs, I stuttered an apology. “I’m so sorry. That hair consistently misbehaves.”
His smile was shy, like he wasn’t sure what to think of theencounter, even as his wind blustered with something I could only call pride.
“I didn’t mind,” he said quietly. “I apologize if it has offended your sensibilities, having to be seen with me in such a state.”
His tone had turned wry. I was sure he was teasing me—another switch I didn’t know what to make of.
“It’s quite alright,” I said, using my primmest voice. It didn’t suit me, but I appreciated how Vincent’s lip tilted as I attempted it anyway. “I shall take care of it in the future so it doesn’t embarrass us both.”
Any walls I’d tried to build had been smashed to bits with one brush of my fingers. He wasn’t helping me maintain distance, either. No, he was inviting me in, his brown eyes dancing with mirth.
“Make sure you do,” he said, and we fell into a conspiratorial quiet as our first course was delivered.
I was in so, so much trouble.
15
Vincent
