“Dorian, I really appreciate it, I do. But I don’t think we could afford to live there. But thank you for the offer. I know the waiting list must be really long.” I give him a warm smile.
“Gabriella, are you trying to insult me?” Dorian’s expression is dark and serious. Shit.
“No, of course not!” I say fervently, shaking my head. But Dorian’s face is frozen with ire. “With me working at the mall part-time and no real plan after graduation, I wouldn’t be able to carry my weight. I can’t expect Morgan to foot the bill.”
“There would be no bill, Gabriella. Don’t you understand that?” Dorian’s icy expression thaws a bit but he is still obviously annoyed.
“No. How could I?” I’m floored by Dorian’s offer. Even a bit offended that he would assume I’d expect that. Now it’s my turn to look irritated. “You know I would never accept that. That’s ridiculous.”
“How so?” He’s genuinely curious.
“For starters, we are still getting to know each other. What if you decide I’m really not worth your time? Morgan and I would be out on the street. And secondly, Morgan wouldn’t feel comfortable working for you and living in your apartment. And lastly, I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t know what kind of women you’ve dealt with in the past, but I can assure you, I’m not like them. I don’t look at you and see dollar signs. That’s not what I’m about.” I am fuming; Dorian really pushed the wrong button.
“Calm down, Gabriella. I wasn’t trying to offend you. Honestly. All of my full-time employees have the opportunity to live at Paralia. It’s part of the package.” He looks like he is on the verge of laughter, only making me more angry and humiliated.
“Oh,” is all I can choke out. My face is red with embarrassment.
“And for the record, there’s absolutely no chance I would ever think you weren’t worth my time. You are of great importance to me, Gabriella. You will see that soon enough. The closer you are to me, the better.”
“Seriously?” He’s always catching me off guard with these grand declarations. It’s hard to determine if he’s for real or just blowing smoke up my ass.
“I never lie. Ever. That is the one thing you must remember about me. I will always tell you the truth.” Dorian looks deep into my eyes, letting his words sink in.
I think about each encounter I’ve had with Dorian since I’ve met him. I think about the difficult questions I’ve asked him about Aurora, the Icepick Killer, his feelings for me. He’s always given me a logical answer, even if he simply answered with a question of his own. No, I don’t think Dorian has ever lied to me. He’s always been painstakingly honest. But can I be honest enough about my own suspicions about Dorian and work up the courage to ask him? He would tell me. I know he would.
Just do it, Gabs. Put on your big girl panties and ask him already.
“Something you want to know, Gabriella?” I look up to meet his eyes, unaware that I’ve been looking down at my hands.
I could ask him. I could ask what he was. I could ask if he knows who and what I am. I could ask him why someone is out to kill me. And he would answer every one of my questions. But then what? This would all end. Dorian would no longer be mine. Though he’s far from being mine now. Shit. How did we even get to this?
“Yes,” I say, confidently. Dorian’s expression darkens and he gazes at me through dark, full lashes. “What does your tattoo say?” I give him a sly smile. No, I’m not ready to let go of this beautiful illusion.
Dorian lifts his right arm, exposing the foreign characters inked on the side of his torso. I had gotten a glimpse of it before but we were always too ‘occupied’ for me to ask. Now that I see it in the light, I realize that it is a series of what I’m assuming is Greek lettering.
“Skotos,” Dorian answers flatly. He looks puzzled. This must be the most perplexing dinner in history. “You can see it.” It’s not a question, but not necessarily an astute observation either.
“Uh, yeah. It’s right there on your right side. Were you trying to hide it?” I say cynically.
“Most don’t see it. Special ink, you could say.” Dorian gives me a smug crooked smirk.
“Don’t know how special it is. Looks like every tattoo I’ve ever seen. I actually love tattoos, so I don’t understand why there’s any reason you’d want to hide it.”
The look that Dorian is giving me can only be best described as incredulous. It’s as if I’m not getting the punch line to a very obvious joke and he can’t believe how dim I am. Am I missing something? Maybe tattoos are frowned upon in his culture and he doesn’t understand how I can be so casual about them. Hell, I’d have a few myself if Donna hadn’t been so against them. Getting some body art is one of the first things I plan to achieve once I move out.