She looked away holding back tears as we stepped into the restaurant. It was a high-end Japanese establishment, with authentic Japanese decorations, and the chef was famous for winning Japan’s version of Top Chef last year. He had since moved to the States to open his own highly exclusive restaurant. It would take a normal person months to find a reservation here, but I just had to make a phone call. I figured if I was going to suffer through dinner with Gina, I might as well at the very least enjoy the meal.
“Sinclair,” I told the Filipino-looking hostess.
“Come with me, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair,” she said brightly, escorting us to a private table at the end of the room. I started to correct her but Gina held my hand again, obviously pleased to be referred to as Mrs. Sinclair. “Thank you so much for joining us today, your server will be here any moment.”
As soon as she was off, I told Gina, “We are not Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair.”
“We technically are, Zay,” she sighed. “Like it or not, we are still married, as the divorce papers were never fully processed. You were too busy to make it to any of the court dates, remember? I am Mrs. Sinclair, for now at least. And I would like to try my best to keep it that way. You hate me right now and you can’t see past my mistakes, which I totally understand, but I want this to work. I want you to trust me again.”
I snorted loudly. “You’re delusional, aren’t you? You and my mom both. You think your actions bear no consequences, and that you can just sweep in here with a slutty dress or take your clothes off in my room and everything will just go back to normal?”
Her face went a deep shade of pink. “I didn’t say…I didn’t mean to imply…or dress slutty—“
“Hah!” I cut her off. “So you’re just letting your breasts hang out of your dress with no intention of seducing me right? Just like how you came into my room with just a bath robe on and it conveniently slipped off your body?”
“Yes, that was me trying to seduce you. But you made it clear that you weren’t interested. Honestly, I never knew you were capable of turning down a naked woman.”
“Now you do,” I snapped. “So don’t try to pull that shit with me again.”
She put her hand over mine again. That was getting annoying.
“Zayden,” she said with her frustratingly pleasant tone back. “Be honest with me, and it’s okay, whatever the answer is. Is there someone else?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my mind automatically drifting to Aria. I wondered what she was doing right this second. Arguing with somebody about something, probably. She was feisty as hell.
“Another woman?”
“There are many. You didn’t think I have been celibate this whole time since you left, do you? If so, you’re far more idiotic than I had thought.”
“I don’t mean one of the many young women that you entertain yourself with on a regular basis – yes, word travels – I mean someone you actually care about.”
“I don’t do that whole caring thing anymore,” I said, but a part of me felt like I wasn’t being entirely truthful. After all, I had been worried sick over Aria’s sudden disappearance. I could lie to myself all I wanted – that I was mad that she was disobeying the contract, or that I simply enjoyed looking at her ass in the office – but I had spent every day of her absence wondering if she had been okay. And when she had made those drunken phone calls, I had immediately sent Ned to take her and her roommates home because I was concerned for her safety. Admitting that to myself was surprisingly scary. The last thing I needed right now was to be blinded by my emotions. I needed to grow out of caring again, as soon as possible.
“Then I’ll make you a deal, Zay,” Gina said, her tone suddenly very businesslike and professional. Before she could convey her “deal,” though, our server came over.
“Are we ready to order, sir?” A young Asian girl asked.
We both looked at her, slightly annoyed for being interrupted. “I’ll have a glass of whiskey and two spicy tuna rolls for appetizers.”
While Gina made her order, I thought of how that was one of Aria’s favorite foods and felt a familiar pang of longing. That first night we had a date in our office was so incredible. She had matched every one of my clever comments with her own, and had been delighted by the exquisite menu that was custom-made in her honor. Her reaction to the champagne in particular had been delightful. I would have to bring her here some day; this would be some of the best sushi she had ever had and I could reserve the whole restaurant just for her if she wanted. If she wanted. She had to, because I had bought her for the next few months.
With a sinking feeling, I realized that I didn’t want her to be around because of some contractual obligation, but rather because she craved my company, and my body, just as much as I craved hers. Angry with myself for feeling this way, I forced myself to believe it didn’t matter what she thought or felt. She owed me her time, willingly or otherwise. I couldn’t let the fact that she was unhappy to be around me get in the way of what I wanted. That wasn't how I functioned. At least, I really didn’t want it to be. What had that feisty redhead done to me?
“Zayden!” Gina had been repeating my name, making me snap out of it.
“Oh yeah, sorry, I spaced out,” I said, slightly frustrated to be taken away from thoughts of Aria. “You were talking about some proposition.”
“Yes, and hear me out before declining my offer,” she said, still sounding businesslike. “We cancel the divorce proceedings-“
“No way. That’s not a deal. It’s just not happening.”
“Hear me out!” She was clearly getting frustrated. All attempts at being sickeningly swe
et vanished. No more pretenses. Gina was getting to the point. She wasn’t here because she thought she loved me or something ridiculous like that.
“I know you don’t have any feelings for me, and I am okay with that. But you gain something by having me around: you can shut your mother up and she will stop with the threats if she thinks we are back together and happy.”
“Your point being?”