He didn’t mention that there were no photos on his walls of someone he cared about, that he had no friends. He didn’t mention that there was absolutely no balance in his life, that he had given up his personal life for success.
Jude was a workaholic. Sometimes I wondered whether he ever slept. I hardly saw him because he was often out of the house every morning before I awoke, and came in late at night when I was already sleeping.
When he did show up, I was always caught off guard. I’d be eating a meal and feel the hairs at the back of my head rise. I’d turn around and there he would be, staring at me with his barely there smile, sending butterflies scrambling for space inside my stomach. I started looking forward to his unexpected appearances. I ached for them.
The days rushed by in a blur. After three weeks of living under Jude’s roof, loneliness caught up with me. The only people I saw on a daily basis were Jude’s housekeeper, chef, the cleaners, gardeners and other people who kept his home in order. Doing nothing but watching movies and reruns of Friends and Cheers had quickly become boring. I needed someone to talk to about more than just whether I needed anything to make my stay comfortable. I craved to go out, to go shopping with the money he had given me, to see people, to sit in a café somewhere. But Jude was adamant that during the time I agreed to stay under his roof, I had to keep a low profile.
I could hardly wait for the remaining two weeks to be over. Then I’d move into my own place and find a real job. If I chose to stay in Madison, Jude had offered me a studio apartment in a building he owned. I hadn’t decided yet. But I was lukewarm about leaving Madison, distancing myself from Jude. Although I did everything to fight it, I had become attached to him, to the security he offered me. And I was afraid of being on my own again, with only my nightmares to keep me company.
CHAPTER SIX
I eyed the full plate in front of me—steak with roasted potatoes. Dinner for one as usual. I stood up and picked up the plate and my glass of guava juice. Sitting alone at the two meter long glass dining table was too depressing. I’d eat in the living room in front of the TV.
I threw open the balcony door, inviting the balmy breeze in. On the couch, I had a perfect view of the full moon. I watched it for a while, day dreaming about happier times, and then I sighed and reached for the remote.
The doorbell rang, and the plate almost slid from my lap. I caught it just in time.
With my heart inside my throat, I padded barefoot across the living room, and walked out the glass door into the long corridor that led to the front door. I stopped when I reached it, breathing.
It’s not the police, I assured myself. It’s just Lin. Maybe she forgot her keys. No big deal.
I pulled open the door.
A man stood there, tall and muscular. He was balding but had a ponytail running down his back.
I swallowed hard. What was Nolan, Jude’s chauffeur, doing here so late, and without Jude?
“I’m sorry to disturb your evening, ma’am. Mr. Macknight asked me to deliver a message.” He handed me a slim envelope.
“Oh.” I took the envelope, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. “Thanks.”
“He asked me to wait until you’ve read the note.” Nolan folded his hands in front of him, turned his face away as though to offer me privacy.
I opened the envelope and removed a sheet of fancy beige-cream paper, embossed at the top with the Macknight Inc. logo. Two lines of text were scrolled with a fountain pen in the center.
I’m sure the walls are closing in on you. Get dressed and meet me for dinner. I got you something to wear. It’s in the car. Nolan will drive you.
Jude
CHAPTER SEVEN
He had reserved the entire restaurant for us. I was impressed and disappointed at the same time. Impressed that he had enough power and money to close a whole restaurant, and disappointed that it was just us. I missed people, missed being in a crowd. But I couldn’t tell him that. At least I was out of the house.
He ordered food for both of us, which was just as well as I would never have been able to pronounce most of the names of the fancy dishes. He also ordered a bottle of wine. Since I didn’t drink alcohol and he drank only sparkling water, it remained untouched. We ate in silence. The only thing he asked me occasionally was whether I was comfortable and if I wanted anything more. I’d been in his house for almost a month, and this was our first meal together.
After a while I relaxed and allowed the soft music to wash over me, the low lighting to calm my nerves.
We were served a seven-course meal consisting of seafood swathed in herbs, succulent meats in juicy sauces, fresh salads, and mouth-watering desserts. My taste buds were still tingling as I reached for another white chocolate lemon truffle.