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“Why?”
“Take my word and have a sip.”
I take the glass from him and sniff at the contents before I take a small sip. It burns as it goes down, and I wince.
“Ugh, what the hell is this?”
“Brandy. Very expensive brandy.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Well, la dee da.”
Foster smiles and reveals his perfect white teeth. “You have fire; I like that. Why don’t you show it in the office?”
“Honestly? Because you scare the shit out of me, and I suspect, several of your staff.”
He holds his hand out for the glass, and I return it to him. “I run a tight ship.”
“That’s no reason to be a jackass.”
Again, the smile appears on his lips, but this time he throws his head back and laughs—a sound I have never heard from him.
“You’ll be perfect,” he says vaguely after a moment. “Fire to my ice.”
“What are you talking about? Perfect for what?”
“Would you like to discuss it here?”
“Since you won’t feed me, isn’t that what this meeting is about?”
“It’s your choice. I can take you to my penthouse and feed you.”
“Once again, definitely inappropriate.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
I push myself against the wall of the limo. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re cowering in the corner like I’m going to eat you.”
I huff, trying to play it off. “I am not cowering.”
“Your posture says otherwise.”
I begin to chew on the inside of my bottom lip. “Are you a psychiatrist now?”
“I study and observe. It gives me the upper hand in my business.”
“I bet you love having the upper hand.”
“I’m controlled and organized… in every aspect of my life.”
Before I can swallow the response at the tip of my tongue down, I blur out, “Including in bed?”
Foster raises his eyebrows. “Since you ask, especially in bed.”
My heart begins to speed along, sending blood rushing through my ears. It must have been a combination of stress, lack of food, and sleep, but I start to feel dizzy and rub my eyes. When I stop, Foster is next to me, cupping my chin.
“You don’t look well,” he observes.
