“No, we don’t. I canceled it. I didn’t want to drag you to the oyster house because it’s overly crowded, and the oysters aren’t that good this time of year.”
“Do you need some help?” she asked, even though the only thing she could cook was cheese omelets. Chad had taught her how to make them, saying they were versatile enough to be served as any meal of the day.
A corner of Dane’s mouth lifted. “Don’t worry. I’ve yet to poison anyone.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Medium rare?” he asked.
“Please.”
She took a seat at the big dining table. It was set for two people, with heavy silverware and linen napkins. A clear vase of pale pink roses and baby’s breath occupied the center.
“Nice flowers, but…they don’t seem like your thing.”
“No. But I thought they might be yours.”
Somehow it was the perfect comment, and she found herself relaxing. She pulled out a stem. What was it about him that got to her like this? Was it the talk he’d given her about choices? She’d had very little freedom. She’d gone where people had told her to, kept to herself more than she might have because of stalkers. No one, not even Chad, had worried about her prerogatives. As long as she’d skated well, they hadn’t cared.
A sliver of apprehension pierced her heart. Careful, Sophia. Dane had so much power over her. She didn’t think he would deliberately abuse it, but at the same time he wouldn’t be gentle either. That just…wasn’t his style.
The meat was sizzling on the pan, and Dane checked the timer. “It’s come to my attention that you haven’t finished college.”
Sophia buried her nose in the rose, inhaled its fragrance. “Um…no, I haven’t. Going back to school wasn’t an option. Is that a problem?”
“Could be. I don’t hire dropouts.”
Her mouth dried. She’d asked him to treat her fairly. He might’ve decided that she should have the same qualifications as everyone else at the company.
“Of course, you could finish while working.”
“I plan to go back,” she said quickly.
“When?”
“When I have some money saved and…stuff.” She forced a smile. “I’ll need to transfer.”
The timer beeped, and he flipped the meat. “What’s wrong with your old school?”
“Wasn’t the right program for me. Also, it’s in Seattle.”
She didn’t want to be in the same state as George, much less the same town. She’d assumed he’d given up. Why now…what had changed? She hated how he’d contacted her on the exact same day her stalker had sent flowers. It made her feel doubly vulnerable.
She hugged herself. It was her responsibility to keep herself safe.
Dane looked up from the meat. “Did something happen in Seattle?”
“No.” She forced a smile. “Why would you think that?”
“Because it seems odd to leave the one place where you’re most likely to have friends and people who could help you.”
She shrugged. “I was always at rinks and competitions. Didn’t really spend much time in Seattle.” That was true enough, and she hoped he wouldn’t catch on what hadn’t been said. Dane seemed to have a very accurate internal lie detector.
He put the entire pan in the oven, then brought the bottle of wine over to the table. The label said Mouton, 1959.
“If you want, I can arrange to have you transferred to UCLA. It’s close, and it’s a great school.”
It didn’t seem like he was going to make a big deal about it, and the sense of gratitude that suddenly flooded her gave her pause. “You don’t have to.”
“I know that. But I want to.” He poured the wine into the two glasses set on the table.
“Why? Do you want me to be as employable as possible so you can get rid of me?” she half-joked. If she wasn’t working for him, it might make it easier for him to seduce her.
“I’m not trying to get rid of you. But it’s a good idea to have something other than figure skating on your résumé if you plan to work in the corporate world. College dropouts look sexy if you’re a tech genius, but otherwise they’re pretty pathetic.”
“You’re right. I’ll think about it.” She took one of the glasses and breathed in the wine. “Wow. This is…complex.”
Dane stuck his nose in the glass and inhaled slowly. “There are a lot of elements. Cassis, chocolate…cedar…a hint of flowers.”
She sampled it slowly. She wasn’t too crazy about red wine, but this was excellent, with just the right balance of fruit and spice. “I meant what I said. I plan to move out as soon as I can. I may need help finding a safe apartment, that’s all.”