⋆ Chapter 35: Snacks and Secrets
The penthouse was quiet when Lindsey wandered back into the living room. The shopping bags Damon had dropped off sat waiting for her, lined neatly across the sofa. She stood there for a moment, eyeing them like they might bite, then curiosity got the better of her.
The first bag held a silk dress, pale champagne in color, soft against her fingers. Another had a pair of heels, sleek black with red soles. She moved from one bag to the next, uncovering a collection of designer handbags, delicate lingerie folded in tissue paper, and even boxes of groceries stacked at the bottom.
The bags were an odd mix of extravagance and necessity, and for the first time since Damon had brought her here, she let out a small laugh.
Her smile grew as she pulled a second dress from its wrapping, emerald green with a neckline that dipped lower than she would have picked for herself. He was spoiling her, plain and simple. And though part of her bristled at the control, at being kept here as though the world outside wasn’t hers anymore, another part softened. It was easier to enjoy the luxury than fight against it.
She held the green dress against her body, turning toward the tall windows to catch her reflection in the glass. For a fleeting moment, she imagined herself slipping into it, hair done, makeup perfect, stepping out on Damon’s arm. The thought startled her, but not enough to stop her from smiling.
Then her old phone rang.
The sound was jarring in the hush of the penthouse. She lowered the dress and crossed quickly to the table where she had left it. The screen lit with a number she didn’t save, but she knew who it was. She pressed accept and lifted the phone to her ear.
“Yeah, what’s up,” she said quietly.
There was a pause on the other end. She listened, then gave a small shake of her head, though no one could see it. “I’m fine. Okay? Don’t worry.” Then another pause. “I’m still here. No, he hasn’t… It’s not like that.”
Her voice was reassuring. She moved back toward the sofa, lowering herself onto the edge while her free hand smoothed over the silk in her lap.
“He’s not hurting me,” she went on. “If anything, it’s the opposite. Clothes. Food. Even a bodyguard shadowing me like I’m some kind of… I don’t know. It’s strange, but it’s not dangerous.”
The voice on the other end pressed again, and Lindsey gave a small, almost impatient sigh. “I’m telling you, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry. We’ll talk again soon, okay?”
She waited for a moment, then ended the call before any more questions could come.
For a long moment, she stared down at the phone in her hand. Then she set it aside on the table and took a slow breath. The room seemed quieter than before, her own thoughts filling the space. Her expression shifted as she looked back at the spread of luxury around her.
Whatever she was going to do next, she hadn’t decided yet.
Exhaling slowly, her eyes went to the door. She rose, padded across the living room, and turned the handle.
Enzo stood right outside where Damon had stationed him. His hands were clasped behind his back, his expression steady but not unfriendly.
“You’re still here,” Lindsey said, tilting her head with a faint smile.
“Of course,” he replied simply.
She leaned against the doorframe. “You must be starving. Want to come in? I can put together a snack.”
His brows pulled together slightly, and he shook his head. “Thank you, but I’ll stay out here.”
“Oh, come on.” Her voice was light, teasing, as she pulled the door open wider. “What’s the worst that could happen? Damon bought plenty. And don’t worry, I doubt he’ll walk in any minute now. And it’s not like I’m cheating on him with you. I’m not even his girlfriend. Damon and I… we’re nothing.”
“That’s not—” Enzo stopped, clearly searching for a polite way to decline.
Lindsey batted her lashes once, exaggerated enough to be playful. “You’re really going to let me eat alone when there’s plenty to share?”
“I’m really sorry, but—”
“Oh no,” Lindsey said with a pout. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who likes making me beg…like my ex.”
Enzo gave a short sigh, like a man resigning himself to a situation he didn’t entirely hate. “Just for a minute.”
“Thought so.” Lindsey grinned and stepped back to let him in.
Once the door closed, the room felt different, more like company had finally arrived. She moved toward the kitchen, glancing back at him as he stood awkwardly by the sofa.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she said, opening one of the grocery bags. “You like chips? Damon stocked up like he thinks I’ll feed a football team.”
“I’ll take whatever you’re having,” Enzo answered, finally lowering himself onto the edge of the sofa.
Lindsey set out chips, cheese, and a bowl of grapes, sliding them onto a tray. As she worked, she tossed a casual question over her shoulder. “So, how long have you been working for Damon?”
“A little while,” Enzo said.
She glanced back at him, one brow arched. “That’s vague. Months? Years?”
“Just over a year,” he admitted. “Which, honestly, isn’t that long compared to some of the others.”
She smiled faintly as she carried the tray over, setting it on the coffee table. “Okay, so that explains why you look like you’re afraid to break the rules.”
“I’m not afraid.” His tone was mild, but his eyes betrayed a bit of discomfort.
“Good,” she said, settling onto the sofa across from him. She popped a grape into her mouth, watching him carefully.
Enzo gave the ghost of a smile.
She nudged the bowl of chips toward him. “Eat. It’s allowed.”
He reached for a handful, and she kept the conversation rolling. “So, what were you doing before Damon? Always this line of work?”
Enzo hesitated, then shook his head. “Different kinds of jobs. Security, mostly. Nothing like this.”
“Babysitting me, you mean.”
He looked at her then, as if weighing whether to answer. “You said it, not me.”
She smiled sweetly, leaning back against the cushions. “I don’t mind. You’re better company than I expected.”
They ate in companionable silence for a few moments, though Lindsey’s mind was already thinking about what he’d told her. New to Damon, not deeply rooted. A man she could probably work with, given time.
“See?” she said lightly, gesturing to the tray. “Wasn’t so hard.”
Enzo gave a small nod. “Yeah, it wasn’t.”
“Always do,” she murmured with a grin, reaching for another grape.
The mood had lightened again, easy and almost friendly. Lindsey stretched out her legs, quietly pleased to have found even a small crack in the wall of her confinement.