Claimed (erotic) (#1, 101 Nights)

Chapter Five: Natalie

“Mocha and fresh egg white, turkey and Havarti breakfast sandwich,” he says, holding out the tray.

“Oh. Thanks.” I take both and avoid his gaze. The coffee smells heavenly. I’ve never been one for health food, but I don’t want to refuse the sandwich. I’m already late for work and I’d feel bad not accepting something he might’ve made himself.

“I’ll take you down the private elevator to the car.” He sets the tray on a table next to the elegant stairwell and starts walking away.

I follow. “Hey, um, can I ask you a couple questions?” I ask.

“I’m restricted on what I can tell others, ma’am. It’s a condition of my employment.”

Will I be repeating that line anytime soon? “Right. Well, can you tell me your name?”

We reach the elevator, and he faces me, scrutinizing my face, as if no one has ever asked him his name.

I take a bite of the sandwich, not about to start babbling nervously, especially to the man who saw me naked less than an hour before.

“Jamil,” he replies. He hits the down button of the small elevator.

“Nice to meet you, Jamil. I’m Natty. Natalie.” I roll my eyes.

“A pleasure. I’m sure.” By the note in his voice, he’s really not happy to meet me.

How much does he know about the … arrangement between me and his boss? It’s not a subject I feel comfortable discussing. With anyone, even if I wasn’t forbidden from mentioning it.

The door yawns open. We step into the elevator.

“Is Elijah a good person?” I whisper.

Jamil glances at me then hits the button for the underground parking garage. I don’t think he’s going to answer. He’s staring straight ahead, stiff and proper, the way I expect a servant to a prince to act.

Disappointed, I finger the seam of my to-go coffee cup. I feel guilty. Dirty. Like I’m sneaking out the back door after a one-night stand. I’m also thinking that what I know about EJ isn’t encouraging. What if he played me? Slept with me to keep me from shooting him, then I get home to find the cops waiting?

Or worse? He follows through with his threat to find my family? What if he’s arranged to have everyone evicted even faster than the initial six-month window?

“Mister Micah is not easy to understand.”

I’m surprised when Jamil finally speaks. I’ve already written off any response from him.

“He keeps his word. Always. Whatever jewels or money he promised you for this charade, he’ll pay up.”

Jamil’s disapproving, critical look at me makes me feel worse, like I’m a whore who extorted a good man for the last of his life savings when in truth, I’m pretty certain Elijah is getting the better end of this deal. At least, he’s been in charge of this deal since he set foot in the office and found me there.

“Thanks,” I mumble. My face is hot again. I’m not sure how I’ll explain the situation to my parents. It’s bound to get out that I’m seeing someone. Our community is too small for it not to, and they know me well enough to know something’s up.

The elevator door opens. I always hated the way parking garages smell: like oil and gas. The lighting is dingy, too. A Towncar is waiting for me, and the driver opens the door when I step out.

I’m not sure what to say to Jamil, so I don’t say anything. I’m hoping I don’t see him again, though I guess that’s not likely.

Assuming Elijah is telling the truth about this deal.