Chapter Five

Remembering how strangly he acted when I mentioned his sense of smell, I furrow my brow as I tap my finger against the tabel. Seeing that the mention of anxiety isn't succeeding in destracting me, Adrian rubs the back of his neck, seeming to try and find another topic to turn to. I, on the other hand, have no trouble finding one, so I decide to release him from the apparently touchy subject.

"Anyway, you keep avoiding my question again," I say. "If you aren't in the mafia or something, why won't you tell me what you do?"

Despite the uncomfortable topic, he looks back at me with a grateful smirk. This must be an easier conversation for him to have. "Well, that can be complicated to answer. I do multiple things," He pauses and straightens in his seat as Heather returns with our drinks, setting them in front of us.

The waitress opens her mouth to interrupt the conversation and take our food order, but Adrian cuts her off without taking his eyes from me. They shine with a softness that I never noticed until now. They seem so gentle, making his face seem even younger. "Do you know what you'd like, Ms. Loveday?"

I raise my brow at the way he addresses me, and his knowing smile sets my heart off again.

"Excuse me, Lydia."He corrects himself, eyes flickering down to my cup. When she was setting it down in front of me, Heather sloshed some of the contents, leading the coffee to drip down the side of the cup. He takes the napkin from his wrapped silverware and wipes it clean, not missing a beat.

"Whatever you usually have is fine," I say, taking my drink back gratefully and shooting Heather a charming smile. "Since you frequent this place so often, I trust your opinion."

He finally looks at our waitress, just long enough to offer her the soiled napkins he used to dry my cup. "Just the usual then, times two," He presses the napkins into her hand, which she takes with a smile so forced that her feelings are obvious. "Please be careful next time. Coffee would stain her outfit."

As soon as the garbage is deposited, Adrian turns back to me with his smile back in place. "Would you like a straw?"

I glance between him and Heather for a moment, feeling almost guilty for the pure jealousy that is present on her face. Almost. "Yes, please,"

I swear Heather's eye twitches. She reaches into her apron and tosses a straw on the table wordlessly before turning on her heel with a huff. I watch her stomp away quietly, tossing a glare over her shoulder at me before rounding the corner and disappearing from view.

I turn my attention back to the conversation at hand, only to find that Adrian's attention never wavered from me. "See? I told you she likes you. Does she act this way every time you bring a girl here?"

Adrian's eyes lance off of the natural light that pours in through the window as the clouds momentarily part, making them shine a dark amber. He lifts his white coffee cup to his lips, and I find myself surprised by how refined the action looks on him. "As I said before, that's a shame on her part. I have nothing to do with that," I note his avoidance of answering the second half of my question, which brings a coolness to my stomach that isn't caused by my iced americano.

"I do contracting work, as you know by now," He changes the topic back to my previous question, and I realize how avoidant he is with things he doesn't want to talk about. How annoying. "But I also flip properties and rent them out, as well as helping my father run the family business."

Oh? Now that piques my interest. "Wow, you have a lot on your plate. Tell me, how do you juggle all of it on top of your schoolwork?" I ask flippantly, taking a sip of my bitter drink. "And what sort of business does your family run?"

A family business, huh? The previous suggestion of Adrian being in the mafia comes back to me, though I hold my tongue. Not only does Adrian not fit the description of a mafia member in my mind, but this is also not a movie script. The odds are unlikely, however, I can't help but imagine the scenario in my mind. It's entertaining, to say the least.

As if he got an inkling for where my mind was heading, Adrian snickers. "Nothing like the business your family runs, Ms. Lydia. Though I hear that you're more famous for your modeling," He adds, raising a brow humorously. It shouldn't come as a surprise that he did his research on my background, and it only takes an internet search of my last name to bring up my father's jewelry brand. "It's much less interesting, I can assure you."

The front door chimes as someone else walks in, and I hear Heather's half-hearted greeting for the new guests. Though his eyes don't follow mine, I feel the change in atmosphere as Adrian listens as well. He continues the conversation, however, bringing my attention back to him.

"I get the feeling that you'll still pester me about it though, so I'll just tell you. My family is in the Real Estate business."

I smile, grateful that he won't make me bring it up again. "You know me so well already. That explains why you have a nice car." My eyes flicker to his wrist as he takes another sip of his coffee, though I don't bring up the Rolex that glints on it. I get the feeling that the Escalade is the least interesting thing about Adrian.

I notice Heather leading the new customers to a table rather far from us, but don't bother looking up at the group. "How many properties do you own?" I ask, taking a glance out the window.

"Eight at the moment. You'll be staying in one of them, so if you have any problems while you're there, just come to me."

Something about the way he words the last part draws my eyes back to him. I know I'm overanalyzing things, but he seems far more friendly to me than other people, such as poor Heather. Though it might have something to do with my father lining his pockets generously, I doubt that's the real reason. He clearly has enough money of his own that a little bit more would hardly matter.

Adrian's gaze flickers from the new arrivals somewhere behind me to Heather as she passes by us again. I don't see her reaction, but her steps seem hurried as she takes her empty notepad back to the kitchen.

I pull my bag into my lap and rummage around inside of it once more, pulling a compact from the abyss. I open it up, check my reflection in the small mirror, and pretend to touch up the makeup I'm not wearing.

"What made you get into contract work?" I ask, glancing to the bottom of the mirror where the other table is reflected. There are three men sitting in the back corner of the room behind us, and I wonder vaguely why Heather sat them so far away from the kitchen. She allowed us to choose our own table, so the fact that she led the new customers to that spot specifically strikes me as strange. Maybe she just wanted to be able to pass by Adrian while waitressing them.

The newcomers seem normal enough, though their clothes are a bit casual for a winery. As I'm analyzing the group inconspicuously, all of their gazes snap to mine through the mirror simultaneously. My stomach drops, but I don't react and continue to swipe a finger beneath my eye, looking upwards to avoid their strange gazes. Without looking at them again, I snap the compact shut and return it to my purse, heart galloping at the strange interaction.

I don't know if Adrian answered my question, and I don't really care anymore. My blood feels cold in my veins, but when I look up at the man across from me, I relax involuntarily. Adrian's smile is still in place, and his posture remains the same. From what I've observed of him in the past hour and a half, I know that he isn't oblivious to anything around him, so he certainly knows these people are staring at us. If he isn't worried about it, then I won't be concerned.

Though his expression remains friendly, I notice the slight change to his mouth. His lips are curved upwards slightly, but they've taken on a hardness that reflects in his eyes. He's definitely aware of the cold gazes, and he isn't as unconcerned as I thought. I wonder if he's playing dumb for my benefit. Maybe he thinks I didn't notice.