Page 41 of Mr. Aster
I’d lost my patience with her mood. I considered canceling all of this for a moment, but then I remembered why I was doing it.I pulled out of the long asphalt driveway, which should’ve been repaved at least seven years ago, and instead of poking back at the little tiger sitting at my side, I kept quiet.
I figured a lighter topic of conversation was the way to go. It would be fifteen to twenty minutes before we arrived at the restaurant, and we needed to be less repulsed by one another by that time. Having been married to a woman who insisted upon receiving compliments, which would determine whether I would get laid after our date nights, I knew what I needed to do. A casual conversation was the safest bet to smooth over the angry woman at my side, who was acting like a miserable wife and not a newly obsessed girlfriend. Jim and Avery would see right through us if I didn’t change the mood.
Now, what the hell should I compliment her on? I glanced over, seeing her stare out her window, pointedly ignoring me and acting like she was stuck in some prison. I would’ve felt sorry for her, but she started this by thinking that auctioning me off would be funny. So, prison or not, I was stuck in this shit parade with her because there was no way I was being objectified. We were walking through hell together.
I inhaled deeply, trying to think, and ended up with a nose full of a fragrance blend of coconut, vanilla, and a hint of a woodsy musk that smelled quite refreshing. I wasn’t a fan of a musky scent, especially on a woman, but this was nice.
That’s it. Compliment how she smells,I thought, knowing a man could never go wrong complimenting a woman on her perfume.
“You smell intoxicating,” I said nicely.
“We’re not in front of Jim and Avery, so you can save the big romantic proclamations for when we’re faking it in front of them,” she shot back, continuing to stare out of her window.
“Maybe the word intoxicating was a bit over the top,” I said, rolling my eyes at how bitchy she was acting. “But you smell quite lovely, and I’m not being fake about that.”
I glanced at her and smiled when I noticed her head turn toward me. Finally, I did something right. I brought my eyes back to the road when I saw a smirk playing on her lips.
“Thank you,” she said.
Ah, we’re getting somewhere, at least.
“What perfume are you wearing?”
“Sand and Sable,” she answered with a laugh. “I knew we’d be riding in the car together, and since you’ve blackmailed me into thisonlyto make me miserable, I was hoping to make you the same. So, I went into my mom’s room, found the old perfume she never wears anymore, and sprayed on this one.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter and couldn’t resist but inwardly laugh at everything she was doing to piss me off. However, her adorable way of throwing these tantrums andrevealingthat she was trying to make me suffer in her presence was strangely more amusing than it should’ve been.
“It’s nice to know that plan backfired on you the same way your auction did because, unfortunately for you, I find the fragrance quite arousing.”
“You know what I’ve learned while researching the wealthy?” she said, ignoring my last comment and changing the subject.
“We’re impressed?—”
“That there’s a difference between old money and new money,” she interrupted, knowing how much it fucking pissed me off.
“You don’t say?” I answered, irritated.
“Idosay,” she said, “and everyone who knows the Aster family knows they’re from old money.”
“Correct.”
“Well, if it’s true that old money people don’t flaunt their wealth as theannoyinglittle upstarts do in your weirdo crowd,” she said in her typical smart-ass tone, “I wonder why you boughtthiscar, of all cars there are to choose from, to go to dinner.”
“Easy, I like it. It’s something I wanted, so I bought it,” I answered, knowing I didn’t owe her an explanation.
“What would your parents think of this flash of wealth you’re cruising in? This three-million-dollar car their son bought just to go on a dinner date in and show Jim Mitchell up when he arrived?”
I smirked, “Jim Mitchell isn’t a rival, and I have nothing to prove to him. He’s a business associate, and that’s all.”
“Then why would someone from a family that doesn’t flaunt their wealth buy a car like this one?”
“Not that I owe you an explanation,” I started, “but perhaps if I give you one, we can ease into a more friendly rapport?—”
“I don’t need or really want an explanation. I just thought it was interesting,” she cut me off again, and I don’t think I’d ever encountered a person who hated me as much as Darcy Burke did.
It was no longer cute, and if I had feelings, one might say she was starting to hurt them. It was beyond me that we couldn’t even have a civil conversation without me constantly being treated as if I’d intentionally run her dog over and thrown it on her front porch with a smile.
“Listen,” I said, “I understand you loathe me, and I know very well this is the very last thing you want to do. But I will state that you are truly a beautiful woman, and I don’t think I saw that until you walked out to the car tonight dressed like this. If we weren’t from two separate worlds, perhaps I would’ve allowed the moment to do more than intrigue me; however, it is impossible to allow myself to feel anything for you.”
