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He lets my face go. “Love is a frivolous thing. It can only hurt you.”
“Not always, and you never know if you don’t try.”
“You’re a romantic; I’m a realist.”
I back away, sitting in the chair with his clothing draped over the back. “Have you always been this way, or is this because of Erika?”
“A little of both. With Erika, I learned that love hurts. Most of it was my fault. My heart is as black as my name.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true. I negotiated the owners of the factory down over three hundred thousand dollars.”
“Is that what you meant by unexpected?”
“Yes. I was ready for a fight but also willing to pay their asking price. They recently updated their machinery, and it was well worth the price, but they’re desperate. One of the owners is in financial trouble, and the other got his mistress pregnant.”
My eyes widen. “How the hell do you know that information?”
“I make it my business to know. It’s called due diligence. They want a quick sale, and I was their only taker so far.”
Foster removes his slacks as if he doesn’t care that I am in the room. His form-fitting blue boxers cling to his muscular legs and frame his taut backside. For a moment, I wonder what it would be like to dig my nails into his posterior as he fucked me.
While he searches for something to wear, eventually selecting a pair of gray lounge pants, he says, “You still haven’t told me what you want to eat.”
I play with my rings, twisting them on my finger. Foster smiles at me.
“Anything,” I answer. “I’m starved.”
“Do you trust me to order for you?”
“Of course.”
He leaves, and I get up to fix the covers on the bed. Outside the room, Foster begins speaking French as he places an order for lunch. I had no idea my husband could speak any other languages, but then again, I don’t know everything about him.
Sitting across from me, Foster holds out a small fork with a piece of escargot dripping with butter.
“Try it.”
I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “No, thank you.”
“Expand your horizons. I promise you’ll like it.”
“I think I’ll stick to my burger.”
“I knew you would like it,” he says, nodding to my plate.
As I take another bite, juice from the patty leaks down my arm. Foster quickly sweeps his white linen napkin over it before it can stain his shirt.
“How did you get escargot? I didn’t see it on the menu.”
“I’ve stayed here more times than I can count. They cater to me.”
I roll my eyes, chuckling. “You really are full of yourself.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Not in the least.”
