Chapter 38 Nikki

Why the hell am I so angry?
My arms cross at my chest and I use the excuse of being cold, but I am anything but. Who the hell is Cassandra? And why is there a picture of her on his phone as a background? What is she ten?
Green is clearly not my color.
“Nikki?” I turn and look over at Landen, who is staring over at me and lifting his chin up. Landen is the youngest of the men paid to watch over both Bronson and me. Where Rand and Jim are clearly somewhere in their late forties, Landen must be somewhere closer to my age. “Are you getting out of the car?”
I turn and notice Bronson is not only no longer in his seat, but his massive frame is taking up my side of the car, holding the door open for me while other’s honk out their aggression at us pulling over on the side of the road.
Dinner. Right.
I step out, flipping off the few people that have chose to voice their opinions and shut the door with a slam. Rand gives us one last pleading look, something that instantly vanishes when Bronson nods his head towards the passenger door window at them. Clearly, they don’t trust the street girl whose name is not Cassandra with their boss.
Geese, I really am jealous.
I cross my arms once again then begin walking towards where I hope is the hotel. I told Bronson I wanted to not only explore the city more, but to stop and pick a restaurant to go to dinner, but every ounce of me wants to head back and lay in my bed sulking.
“Nikki, I think we should head this way, it’s closer to the business district, meaning there will be lots of places to choose from.” I check the time on my phone and notice I have a missed call from Mick. I ignore the pang of guilt and force back my anger at the Victoria’s Secret model. She looks familiar but I couldn’t stare at the screen long enough before Bronson scooped it up.
“It’s nearly five in the evening Bronson. Everyone and their mamma will be getting off work right now, meaning those places will be packed.” Bronson’s lips quirk up at my comment and I have to fight back my smile. I enjoy making him laugh with my dry sense of humor but instead of laughing along with him I continue walking and wait for him to catch up to me.
I don’t want to be in a more secluded restaurant with him, but damn if I will let him put me in a place where he can still be Mr. Mogul. My job is to figure him out as a person so that I can get some intel into his company. Mick is counting on me. Brody is courting on me.
“You going to slow down enough for us to look around?” I stop in the middle of the busy street and look up at him. I don’t know why I am so angry; he’s allowed to have booty calls and woman flaunting pictures on his phone. I give him a small smile, the one I’ve come to notice is his favorite and watch as his features soften.
“Sorry, guess I’m a little hungry.”
“You sure that’s all that’s wrong?” He asks placing his fingers on my chin and lifting my gaze up. I notice it’s something he often does. I like his touch; I like the feeling he invokes inside me when he requires my attention.
“Yes.” No.
Bronson takes my lie and nods his head. I’m not one hundred percent sure he believes me, but he doesn’t say anything. We continue walking, this time at a pace we are both comfortable with. After a silent three minutes I find a small hole in the wall Italian place whose smells draw me in. I give Bronson a look and laugh when I see his face in absolute horror.
“This is the place you want to try?” He asks and his voice is so shrieked I nearly step back wondering if I got out of the car with someone else.
“What? It sems nice.” I state then laugh when I see a woman walking out of the so-called restaurant with no shoes on and smoking a cigarette. She sees us, gives a nasty snarl then scratches her hide.
Oh yes, this is definitely the place to take Mr. Victoria’s Secret.
“Nicole, I don’t think this is the kind of place for us to have dinner.”
“Oh, come on, where is your fun side? We don’t always have to go to some up tight restaurant where waiters dress all in white. Sometimes the best food is wrapped around people who– “
“Don’t know what hygiene is?”
A laugh bubbles out of me and after a few seconds, Bronson joins in. It’s nice to see him laugh the way he is, he looks years younger when he does.
“’Come on Bronson, do you trust me?” I sober up and ask him while extending my hand. He doesn’t delay one more second, simply takes my hand in his and walks alongside me into the restaurant where the woman who was giving us a snarl now smiles and welcomes us.
We are immediately seated, partly because we are one of the only ones inside, and seconds later, complimentary wine is dropped off. Bronson picks up the glass, inspecting it and takes a sip. His face says it all…. not the best tasting wine I’m sure he’s had. I however down my whole glass.
“Welcome to Sulory, I’ll be your host this evening, would either of you like more wine?”
“God no.” Bronson answers, causing me to giggle.
Have I mentions I am light weight?
“Very well sir, would either of you care to hear our specials?”
Bronson takes a gander over at me and I nod my head enthusiastically. He’s letting me play, and in doing so, he’s having fun on his own.
Our host goes over the specials of the day, most of which consisted of fish and soups. I order the fish and Bronson sticks with his usual salmon. Once the waiter leaves, I glance over at Bronson once again and laugh. He follows me shortly and before we know it, the anger I felt from earlier, the jealousy, the deal of a lifetime I managed to seal, none of it matters.
The only thing I want in this moment, is right in front of me.