Page 20 of His Turn

Chapter Seven - Bric

It’s a good thing Jordan is here. He’s lively. A conversationalist. And he’s very interested in this Nadia girl, so he’s trying his best to keep the conversation going after we order drinks. Nadia looks… pretty, but professional. Like this is a business meeting. I’m wearing the same suit I put on this morning. I didn’t see Jordan this morning, so I’m not sure if this suit he’s wearing is special or not. I don’t pay much attention to what he wears from day to day.

But all of it together makes this… not a date.

I sigh as I take a sip of brandy.

“Am I boring you already, Mr. Bricman?”

“Not in the least, Nadia. And please,” I say, setting my glass back down on the white linen tablecloth. “It’s Elias.” I glance at Jordan, who is shooting me a confused look. “What?” I ask him.

“Elias, huh?” He tries to hide a smirk when he takes a sip of his whiskey.

“I’m trying to pick up the mood. Why am I getting the feeling none of us want to be here?”

“I want to be here,” Jordan says. “How about you, Nadia? Is Elias”—he stresses my name with a sneer—“someone you see yourself with?”

Nadia shrugs. She’s drinking wine. They carded her and she produced an ID. So I guess she’s at least twenty-one. “I don’t do anything I’m not interested in.”

“How do you manage that?” I ask her. I’m genuinely curious. “Surely you must do lots of things you’re not really interested in.”

“No,” she says. She carries herself with confidence. Not quite arrogant, but definitely on the edge of it. Stuck-up. Snooty. Too good. All words a casual acquaintance might use to describe Nadia Wolfe. “I made a promise to myself when I was a child. I would never cower to the demands of others. Unless, of course,” she says, winking at Jordan, “I enjoy cowering.”

“You don’t cower, Nadia. You always put up a good fight.”

“Like now,” I mumble.

“You didn’t answer my question. Am I disappointing you, Elias?”

“Not yet,” I say, taking another sip of brandy. “But I think you have the potential.”

Jordan laughs. I try not to, because I’m being a dick and I know it. But fuck it. She’s being a bitch.

“Should we call it a night then?” Nadia actually stands up like she’s gonna walk out.

“Come on, Nadia,” Jordan says. “He’s just fucking with you.”

I look her in the eye. Meet her gaze. Hold it prisoner. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood, Miss Wolfe. But by all means, you’re free to walk out. Just know that you can’t ever come back.”

“Is that a rule?” she asks, taking her seat once more. People are looking at us. I don’t like to be stared at. But if she wants to make a scene, that’s on her. I’m not gonna let it be a reflection on me.

“Yes,” I say. “That is a rule. You stay, we’re together. You walk out, we’re not. Take it or leave it.”

“Can I get this in writing?” she asks.

I pull the contract out of my suit coat pocket and place the thick envelope on the table. “Of course you can.”

She glances at Jordan. Maybe nervous. Maybe not. He nods to her. “Sign it,” he says. “It’s all standard language.”

Nadia reaches for the envelope, pulls out the stack of folded papers, and begins to read. She looks up after a few seconds. Stares at me. “I told you I’m already playing games with several other men.”

“So quit,” Jordan says.

I say nothing. I just stare her down and slowly sip my drink.

Nadia redirects her gaze to Jordan. “I like them. I’m winning. Why should I quit?”

“Then why are you here?” Jordan asks.