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I screw up my features.
“Well, for example,” he stares at my mouth as I lick my lips, “don't youwant toeat what you fancy rather than what people tell you to eat? Don't you have taste preferences for food?”
I still don't get him, and he seems to know.
“Okay... how about this: do you want tocome with me this weekend or stay here?” He lifts a steady hand to cut me off from interrupting him. “It's a simple question. And don't ask what I want. I'm only interested in what you want.”
“Well, yeah, I guess I'd like to come.” I focus on my fingers stroking over the glossy banister outlay. “I've been stuck in this house for nearly two months.”
“I know you have,” he sounds almost sorry, reaches out and gives my other hand a squeeze, causing everything in me to tighten. “That's partly why I want you to come with me. I also need to get some food, so you can come shopping with me and tell me whatyouwant toeat. You can have whatever you want.”
The penny drops and I can't help this horrid sinking feeling that washes over me.
He's only interested in what I want. I can have whatever I want.That's bullshit. Men like him don't put women before themselves.
I give Charlie this look, silently telling him that I know what he's up to—the emotional bonding. I haven't really noticed it much before today—I've been too focused on fancying him and connecting with him—but now, I know. I don't know how I've suddenly realized his agenda, but I know. Him spending time with me, telling me about his sister and his brothers, letting me listen in on his phone calls, the sweet gestures, the way he looks at me...
“What?” he says, pulling his eyebrows together.
“I know what you're doing, Charlie.” I school my attention on my fingers again so I don't chicken out of telling him what I think. “I know you're trying to emotionally bond me to you.”
He scoffs, but not out of anger. He sounds conquered. “I think we're both a bit past that now, don't you?”
———
I don't answer Charlie. Not even when he cocks his head to the side and says, “Are you ever gonna open up to me about how you feel?”
Turning on my heel, I go upstairs and spend the rest of the morning alone, a little pissed off but more confused if anything.
I try to focus on mentally preparing for London—it's been so long since I was in the city and it reminds me of Maksim in so many ways—but I can't focus. I can't stop deliberating over how Charlie responded to my opinion about the emotional bonding. What did he mean by, 'I think we're both a bit past that now, don't you?' I'm almost certain he means he's accomplished his goal with me but I just... I'm not sure. Or maybe I don't want to believe that's the answer.
I wrack my brain for hours, amid taking a shower and dressing, but I don't come up with a better explanation than his agenda, and that hurts in a way I've never felt before.
I consider asking him what he meant, hoping he'll tell me the truth, but when he comes into my room, dressed in jeans and a long sleeve red sweater, my thoughts blank.
“You've had a shower?” he says, opening the armoire. He's holding a duffle bag in one hand.
I nod at him, then climb into the middle of my bed and cross my legs, watching him with caution.
“We'll be gone for a few days,” he's speaking to the armoire, “but just in case business drags, I'll pack you some extra clothes.”
“What business do you have to sort out in London?”
He gathers around four days’ worth of clothes for me and folds them in the duffle bag. “First, I need to see Maksim.”
“Maksim?” I say, my eyes widening. “You-you want me to come with you while you see Maksim?”
“No,” he glances back and laughs fondly at me. “You can stay at the hotel while I pay him a visit.” He then says something about meeting up with his men but I'm not really paying attention. I'm too fucking nervous about running into Maksim while with Charlie. How uncomfortable will that be?
Strolling across my room, Charlie puts the bag on my bed. “Once everything is taken care of, we can go out for dinner if you want? Then we can go dancing or go see a movie...”
I don't think about the whole 'dinner and dancing/movie' thing. I couldn't even if I wanted to.
“What is it, Blaire?” Holding my questioning gaze, Charlie gives me his full attention.
“Why haven't you seen...him,already?” I hide my hands in the sleeves of my sweater. “I thought you were meeting up with him a week after you took me?”
I remember Maksim saying on the night Charlie took me, 'I'll see you in a week or so, Charlie'.
