Little Black Book - Page 37/81

My blush heated. “Do you have to make it so obvious?” I asked quietly, motioning to Mr. Martin in the front seat.

He looked at me with confusion before his face cleared and he started to laugh. I sunk deeper into my embarrassment and into the seat.

“Were you under the assumption that Martin doesn’t know what I do with my girls?” Again, he chuckled.

“Well, no. I mean…”

“Trust me. Martin gets paid the big bucks for a reason. He’s paid to act with the upmost discretion.” He reached forward and shook Mr. Martin’s shoulder playfully. “Isn’t that right, old man?”

My eyes met Mr. Martin’s in the rear-view mirror and he nodded and smiled. “Absolutely, sir.”

Sebastian grinned over at me, before looking out the window once more.

“Change of plans, Martin. Let’s go to the other side of town and make a pit stop.”

Instead of the expected expensive restaurant, Sebastian took me to a hole-in-the-wall burger joint called, The Pit Stop. It was on the darker side of the city. The outside of the building looked sketchy, and the people who were coming from inside looked even worse.

“Are you that embarrassed by the way I dress?” I tried to control the edge in my voice and avoided all eye contact with him.

“What are you talking about?” He sounded genuinely confused.

Waving my arm, I said, “Didn’t you bring me to this place so I wouldn’t taint your reputation?”

“We really have to control your over-active emotions, Jessica. You’re either hot or cold, and while that might sound appealing sexually, it’s not when outside the bedroom. I didn’t bring you here because I’m embarrassed by your choice of clothing. This is my favorite place to eat heart failing, artery clogging hamburgers.”

I didn’t respond to that. Instead, I contained my smiled and followed him in.

This time Sebastian was the one who stuck out like a sore thumb when we walked in. He held his head high as he moved confidently through the place in his expensive black suit. I covered my smile. The expressions on the faces of everyone around us were comical.

“What?” Sebastian asked when he noticed me staring and smiling.

“You look so out of place here,” I giggled.

He tried hard not to smile, then his dimples deepened and the side of his mouth tilted upwards. “Trust me. I’m more comfortable in a place like this than you’d think.”

His words made me wonder about him and where he’d come from. I knew next to nothing about Sebastian, but I suddenly had the desire to. He was an enigma—one who could wear expensive suits, but still feel comfortable in the ghettos of New York City.

We took the table in the back, tucked away from the rest of the people in the restaurant.

“Tell me something about you,” I said, folding the napkin nervously in front of me.

When he didn’t respond, I looked up to find him staring at me like I was his dinner. His eyes drifted from my face, down my neck, and landed on my chest.

“I don’t talk about myself with my girls.”

The strangest thing happened in that moment. I became jealous. It burned at my center, as if I had just eaten bad Mexican food. It made no sense because I didn’t have a hold on Sebastian, whatsoever. I seriously doubted anyone in the world did.

“I apologize. I forgot I was just one of your girls. However many there are,” I snapped, looking anywhere but at him. I was embarrassed by my reaction.

“Are you jealous of the other girls, Jessica?” he asked. His smile was cocky and smug.

“No.”

There was no need to elaborate. I figured my lie would be more believable if I kept it short and sweet.

“Good. You have no reason to be. I haven’t seen or spoken to any of them since the moment I first saw you.”

The burn in my stomach dissolved and I found myself locked in a heated gaze. Then he turned away and tugged on his collar. He was finally the one uncomfortable, and I gathered he’d said more than he wanted to.

The waitress came and set our food on the table. Big, sloppy burgers, full of calories and goodness, with a side of fries and heart attack—it was exactly what I needed.

The burger was amazing and I couldn’t help but groan in appreciation while I chewed.

“Good, right?” he asked around his bite.

“Oh my God, it’s the best burger I’ve ever had.”

And it was. I could totally see myself braving the city streets on occasion for the deliciousness that was my burger.

“This was my favorite place to eat when I was younger,” he said, dipping his fry into the pile of ketchup on his burger wrapper.