Feelings of self-consciousness flooded me as I tried to assess what was going on. Part of me wanted to please him greatly and the other part of me wanted to wipe that smarmy look off his face. What was wrong with me? I’m a pretty smart, intelligent woman and I’m certainly used to having men look at me a certain way, but nothing in my frame of reference could have prepared me for the intensity of this brief moment. I didn’t get it.
As we sat there in silence my mind drifted off into a mini movie of what I’d seen earlier. I could see Marshall having sex with that woman and I knew it was the kind of sex I wished I could have at that moment. If Brandon would have been able to deliver like that it would have been amazing. And even more heart breaking when he left you. You can’t just replace sex like that, can you? Sometimes I really despised that argumentative side of my inner attorney.
Marshall licked his lips softly, making me wonder if he had read my mind just before. I sure hoped that wasn’t the case. I seemed to be like an open book with this guy and he somehow had an eerie way of tapping into what I was feeling. In an instant I knew that my form of small talk to break the silence would be utterly ineffective so I just chose to stare back at him for a bit. I felt like a kid in a staring contest and if this was like when I was a kid I’d likely lose. Marshall put his right hand up to his lips, rubbing his knuckle across that soft and sensual looking lower lip. I wanted to bite it so badly and in an instant I was backed into the emotion of horniness. I could safely say that I’d never experienced so many emotions with one guy in such a short amount of time.
Our food came and there was still silence. No word had been exchanged between us and the waitress who clearly desired Marshall was even silent, like she understood that’s what he wanted. It was so bizarre. I realized that I hadn’t even ordered the steak and veggies, but that’s what I’d gotten. The nerve…not asking me what I wanted or choosing my own food. Was he some sort of control freak? It wouldn’t have mattered anyway I determined. I was not hungry in the least. It was all too distracting for me to think about having an appetite. As for Marshall, that was a different case.
I watched Marshall begin to cut through his rare stake and devour big pieces of it like he was a carnivore eating in the wild. It barely took him a minute to eat and he still didn’t talk. I was beginning to think he had been starving and that’s why he’d stopped talking. Some people didn’t function well at all when they were hungry. I certainly knew he’d worked up a plenty big appetite that morning.
After the steak was devoured, the glass of red wine was drunk down in about three swallows. Did he even enjoy the taste of it? I had no idea. I knew it was an expensive bottle despite not being overly knowledgeable in wine.
I just kept staring at Marshall, completely ticked off by his mannerisms, and starting to think he was a real asshole. Just because you were rich and sexy didn’t mean you could act the way he was. It was uncivilized, almost barbaric. I could sense my eyes darkening as I stared at him, anger rising within me. Keep your cool. You can beat him at his own game.
Marshall hadn’t really taken his eyes off me and he finally asked, “Is there something wrong with the steak?”
Was he kidding me? Something wrong with the steak? The only thing wrong with me was the whole bogus interview.
“My steak is fine.”
“Then why haven’t you eaten anything?” he continued.
“This is an interview so I’m waiting for you to ask me questions. It wouldn’t do very well for me to shove a piece of steak in my mouth and then have you ask me a question, would it?”
“Oh, I see. I really only had that one question.” Marshall shrugged his shoulders like our conversation was normal. It was far from normal in any sense of the word.
“What about what I’ve done previously and what I’m capable of…”
Marshall cut me off. “I can see those things from your resume and your resume speaks quite well for you. Why waste my time asking what I’ve already read? I just need to know why.”
“So now you know,” I said, starting to lose my cool. I was irked beyond anything I would have thought possible at the start of my day, including the interstate chase that had made me late.
“Now I know,” Marshall agreed, void of all expression or emotion in his tone.
“Do you have anything else you’d like to know about me?” I asked, hoping to get this interview back on track.
Marshall paused briefly, assessing if he did indeed have anything else to ask me and eventually crinkled his eyes. “Yes I do have one more question.” I nodded, showing that I was listening. “I’d like to know if you work weekends and evenings.”
“Yes I do. It’s a priority to get the job done, of course, and many times that involves working outside the usual office hours.”
“Don’t you have anything other than work to keep those nights and weekends occupied?” he asked.
Rude and inappropriate were the first two words that came to my mind. It shouldn’t have been a surprise though because this entire interview had been off the charts crazy. “I don’t. I am very devoted to my career at this moment.”
“Good. I expected as much, but wanted to make sure. It would certainly put a kink in my plans if you didn’t have the same kind of work ethic as me. That’s good information to know should I choose to bring you on.”
“That won’t be a problem, Mr. Kent.”
He smiled at me widely. We’re talking that megawatt smile that can take a person’s breath away when least expected. It was a transformation from the silent quirky man I’d just witnessed and most welcome. He actually looked civilized and sweet. “That’s good to hear, Ms. Rowland.”
Then, as fast as it had showed up, the megawatt smile disappeared and I was looking at the brooding and contemplative man again. He has more mood swings than any girl I’ve ever met, I thought. That’s really saying something considering I had thirty sorority sisters that I lived with in college.
The server came over with a plate of apple pie and that was the end of the brief, yet awkward exchange between Marshall and me. He dug into that pie and devoured it like he was starving, ignoring me completely. Why was he acting so…so…dismissive? That was the word I was looking for.
I apparently was dismissed because not another word was muttered as Marshall continued to eat plate after plate of food. He had desserts, fruit, nuts, and wine. He didn’t pay any attention to me the entire time. I might as well have been a bum on the street corner at that moment. I have had enough.