Page 10 of Mr. Aster
“Darcy,” I heard the devil himself say from behind me.
You have got to be kidding me…
I turned, acting nonchalant about this man following me away from the dinner party.
“Yes?” I forced a smile.
His eyes homed in on mine, looking for something, I guess. “I did not mean to chase you off from dinner tonight,” he said cockily.
My lips twisted in response. “You didn’t run me off from anything,” I answered confidently. “It’s been quite a day, so I’m just exhausted, but I appreciate seeing a hint of concern from you. I was beginning to wonder if you had a soul to go with that expensive suit you’re wearing.”
His gaze darkened, but he was the one who chased after me and my tequila mood. I left the table so it wouldn’t come to this, but it’s like his dumb ass wanted more.
“Of course I have a soul,” he practically seethed. “Why would you think I didn’t?”
“Because, Sebastian,” I wasn’t calling him Mr. Aster right now. That would be too respectful for a man who had shown zero respect to my family since I first met him.
“Sebastian?” he said in shock as if he hadn’t permitted me to use his first name.
“That is your name, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Well, I don’t know how people in yourelitesocial circles in New York do things, but in California, we tend to call people by their names, especially when they’re staying in our homes.”
“Well, of course,” he said in response. “However, we typically use proper names until we are acquainted and comfortable with each other.”
“Really?” He had to be joking; that was the most ridiculous shit I’d ever heard. “Comfortable, you say? I’m so glad you’ve brought upcomfortbecause moments ago when you calledmeby my name, you were comfortable. And you certainly seemed to be comfortable enough to decide on remodeling this whole fucking home after being in it for what, thirty minutes?”
“Fifteen minutes after being shown my rooms,” he said darkly.
“Oh, forgive me,” I smiled. “Even better.”
“And I offer these services not because I’m comfortable but because I’m extremelyuncomfortable with the hospitality extended to me.”
You have got to be fucking kidding me with this asshole.
I folded my arms defensively in front of my chest, ready to hit him over the head with one of his fancy bottles of tequila.
“You are beyond my comprehension, sir,” I said.
He smiled, “I am not here for you to figure out, so that’s fine by me.”
I grinded my teeth together in a way that should have broken a back molar or two. “I never said I wanted to figure you out, asshole,” I snapped. “I’ve just never been around anyone so entitled or rude in all my life. You make this place seem like it’s some fleabag motel, and you’ve been forced to live with filthy trash that is so far beneath you, it’s almost like a punishment to be here.”
“Feels kind of like that,” he answered, and I was horrified at the truth in his eyes with that statement.
“Why the hell did they even send you here?” I said, pissed and insulted.
“You just said it,” he answered. “It is a form of punishment for me.”
“Bullshit,” I answered. “What’s going on?”
He sucked in a breath of air and looked away.
Interesting.
“I’ll leave you to go to bed,” he said and turned to leave.
