Chapter 38
Jill studied Mattias as he ended the call with an apologetic look. He looked handsome today: dark suit, no tie, pale blue shirt, clean-shaven, a glittering signet ring with some kind of military thing on it.
“Sorry. That was Tom,” Mattias said, turning over his cell phone. He hadn’t switched it to silent, but he wasn’t playing with it the whole time either. There was nothing she found more off-putting than a man who couldn’t put down his phone, so that was a bonus point for him there.
“What did he want?” She stretched out one leg. She was wearing knee-length suede boots today, and Mattias seemed to enjoy her legs in them. Judging by the way his attention kept catching on them anyway. Jill smiled and raised her glass of champagne, the bubbles rushing toward the surface. Mattias had ordered for the two of them, and he was something of a wine snob. Not that he was stuck-up in his snobbery—plus you would have to be crazy not to like Pommery. She took a big sip, loved the wooziness it gave her. Woozy and happy, was there anything better? It was as if all her concerns had disappeared.
“I have no idea what he wanted, actually. But I think he’s having an affair with your sister.”
That made Jill pause with her glass in the air. “He said that?”
“Not exactly. But I’m wondering. Have you heard anything about it?”
“I haven’t talked to her in a few days. But Ambra can take care of herself. Though I think she could find someone better than him.”
“Tom’s a good man.”
“If you say so.” Should she be worried about Ambra? She wouldn’t begrudge her a little sex, on the contrary, but with Tom? “Your friend, isn’t he in love with some other woman?” she continued, studying Mattias through her lashes.
“Actually, I don’t know. I thought so, but you saw the way he looked at her?”
Jill nodded. She had. She played with her glass. They were at the very back of the posh Cadier bar, waiting for their table in the dining room.
“What made you call me?” she asked. Men were always calling her up and asking her out. But those were men who, in various ways, were trying to use her. Mattias didn’t seem to have any ulterior motive. Though men were very rarely surprising. They wanted to impress, boast, and fuck, but it was rarely more than that.
“I called you because I wanted to see you,” he said calmly.
“We . . .” she began, but she was interrupted by a man forcing his way in between them. Jill had chosen a seat that would make her as invisible as possible, but it was hard to go out in Stockholm without being recognized. She sighed.
“Aren’t you . . . ?” the man said with a grin, pointing rudely at her. Jill nodded, hoped he would go away. “My pals didn’t think I would have the nerve to come over, but I recognized you.” His eyes moved down over her chest before he turned toward a group of men who were waving and shouting at him. Damn it, he was going to cause a scene; she could feel it. She tried to catch the eye of a staff member, someone who could help her.
“You said hi. Now could you please leave?” Mattias said, though he didn’t get up. Jill gave him a warning shake of the head. The last thing she needed was for Mattias to try to play the hero. She couldn’t handle any more drama.
“This your old man or what?” the drunk man asked with a huge roar of laughter.
Mattias got up from his bar stool. He was shorter than the drunk man, lighter, and at least ten years older. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. So either you leave on your own, or I’ll help you out.”
Jill put a hand on Mattias’s arm. She wasn’t exactly worried, but she knew this kind of situation could escalate quickly.
But then Mattias did something, Jill didn’t see what, and suddenly the drunk man was on his knees in front of them. His face was twisted in pain and his breathing was strained. She stared.
“You took a fall,” Mattias said with a cool voice. “I think you should go back to your friends now, and then I think you should leave.” Mattias looked at his watch. “I’ll give you two minutes.” He moved, and the man gasped in pain.
“You’re crazy,” he panted.
Mattias bent down and said something into the man’s ear. The man blinked firmly before he nodded.
“What are you doing?” Jill hissed.
Mattias sat back down on his stool, seeming completely unfazed. The other man got up from the floor, hesitated for a moment, and then stumbled off back to his pals. He said a few words and then they all got up and left the bar. Jill had never seen anything like it.
“What did you do to him? Was that some kind of judo move?”
“Yeah, kinda,” Mattias said. He raised his glass and took a few sips. Jill studied him critically.
“I hate violence, just so you know.” She was serious; she’d had enough violence in her life. More than enough.
“Same here,” he replied.
“Your table is ready,” a waiter came over to tell them.
Now there were members of staff around.
Mattias got up again and held out a hand in front of him. He walked behind her as she followed the waiter to the table.
Mattias was much bossier than she expected. He seemed so polished and sophisticated; she hadn’t expected him to be so dominating. She didn’t like men who tried to take charge of her, was used to being the one in control, and preferred it that way. But being out with a man who could make irritating idiots shut up wasn’t all bad.
“Here you go.” He pulled out a chair for her.
The restaurant offered international fine dining, and Jill could see Russian oligarchs, a foreign royal, a few Swedish financiers, and then completely ordinary people celebrating weddings or the like. She scanned the menu. It was expensive, even for Stockholm, and she wondered for a moment whether Mattias expected her to pay.
Nothing would surprise her. She had been on far too many dates that ended with her paying the tab. She could afford it, so she didn’t care. She’d supported herself since she was sixteen, had always been the one to give to others, dated men she gave money, never the other way around. It gave her a feeling of control, of being the one with the economic power. She didn’t want to depend on anyone—she and Ambra were alike in that sense. Aside from the fact that Ambra earned a mediocre amount at Aftonbladet, whereas Jill was economically independent several times over.
They each ordered steak. Mattias politely asked whether he could choose the wine, and Jill nodded. She was an uncomplicated soul in that respect; so long as she got drunk and avoided a headache, she was happy.
“Was it true you bought my CDs?” she asked.
He looked up from the wine list. “Yup. And I listened to them. Your voice is fantastic.”
She froze a little. Roughly half the men she’d ever met said she must have rhythm in her blood, considering where she was from. She hated it. But Mattias didn’t say anything of the sort; he just seemed genuinely impressed.
“But it’s not your type of music?” she asked.
He ordered a French wine before he replied. “I wouldn’t have thought so. But I like your music, a lot. I’m grateful I can widen my horizons. What kind of thing do you listen to?”
Suddenly she couldn’t tell whether Mattias was messing with her. Had she ever been on a date where anyone asked what kind of music she liked? It was actually quite strange that no one had asked. “I like most things,” she replied guardedly. “Jazz, pop, country.”
“Metal? Classical?” he asked with a smile.
“I don’t really think you can generalize. I like some songs, don’t like others. It’s all part of my job to listen, so I guess I’m really an omnivore.” She was so interested by their conversation that she forgot to flirt. It really was relaxing, and she wondered whether it was all a strategy on his part. Not that he needed any kind of strategy. Unless he messed up somehow, she was fairly convinced she was going to sleep with him.
They continued to make small talk about music, travel, and different wines as their food arrived. They ate their steaks; the wine he ordered was like poetry in her mouth, and for the first time Jill understood the point of pairing the wine with the food. She reached for her bag, her hand on her cell phone. She knew she should be taking pictures of the food, uploading them to Instagram. She paused. Took it out. “Can I take a picture?” she asked, and, for the first time in a very long time, felt embarrassed.
His fingers drummed the table and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jill, but I can’t be in any pictures.”
She took a quick picture of her plate, wrote something meaningless, and uploaded the image, then grabbed her wineglass and took a deep sip.
“I have a job where I can’t be visible in that kind of way.”
“Yeah, I gathered as much.”
“You’re mad with me,” he said.
“No,” she lied, couldn’t understand why she was reacting like a child. But he had every advantage. He knew about wine, he could handle pushy men, he had an important job. And he didn’t seem at all charmed by her. They’d flirted in Kiruna, and he’d called her, but now she felt so unsure of him, unsure of whether she could really handle him.
“Jill?” he said.
“Tell me what you’ve been doing since I last saw you,” she said, flashing him a quick smile. She would force herself to be happy. She smiled again, could already feel it working, away with all the negative thoughts, away, away.
“Working,” he said, studying her closely.
She smiled again, felt like normal. “Not the whole time, surely?”
“Yeah, actually. And then I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
She laughed. She couldn’t figure him out at all. There must be something about her he liked. “Thinking what?”
“How fun it was in Kiruna.”
“Aside from the fact that Tom and Ambra sulked so much.”
He waved his hand as though they were irrelevant. They were, after all. “The way you sang in that bar. If you knew how often I thought about that night.” There was a glimmer in his eye, something primitive, and Jill felt a thrill rush through her. He was sexy in his controlled, restrained way. Especially when his eyes glimmered like that, like a wolf that had caught the scent of something. Yes, she would definitely let him have sex with her tonight.
The waiter came back to their table, asked whether they wanted dessert. Jill deliberated with herself. And then she heard him order chocolates, which were probably her favorite thing of all. If she was being honest, she probably even preferred chocolate to sex.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“I saw it on your Instagram.”
“Half of that’s lies.”
“Yeah, but I took a chance on your love of chocolate being real.” She chose a milk chocolate praline from the plate that arrived and nibbled at it appreciatively.
“I saw the kind of comments you get too,” he said with a frown.
She pouted slightly, didn’t have the energy to talk about her idiotic haters. She rested her chin in her hand, didn’t care that she had her elbows on the table. She was tipsy and full-to-bursting. “They’re idiots,” she said dismissively.
“They’re awful.”
“Yeah, that too. But you can’t let them see that you care, or it’ll just get worse.” She had learned that over the years. The haters were like hyenas, just waiting for a bared throat or the slightest sign of weakness. She saw Mattias’s jaw twitch. Was he angry? “But they’re not your problem. Or were you planning to fight them back too?”
“Maybe,” he replied.
She took another chocolate, didn’t want to think about those crazy people. “Where do you live?” she asked instead.
“In town.”
She rolled her eyes. “Where in town? Is it a secret? Are you even allowed to go on dates?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you’re some kind of secret spy.”
He shook his head. “I can go on dates.” He slipped back into silence, seemed to be thinking.
“Mattias?”
“Yeah?”
“You need to forget those trolls. It’ll drive you crazy otherwise, and then they’ve won. Okay?”
He nodded. Took a chocolate but didn’t eat it, seemed to be thinking again.
She wondered what he was like in bed. Considerate? Firm, or maybe eager to please?
When she glanced at the time, she realized it was almost midnight. She didn’t know where the time had gone.
Mattias waved the waiter over and took the check. He didn’t even glance at her, just paid. When they got up from the table, she snuck a glance at the tip he had left. He was generous. Or was it just to impress her?
As they left the restaurant, she leaned in to him slightly, was looking forward to kissing him. He went to collect her jacket from the coatroom in the hotel lobby, helped her into it, and she leaned in to him again. He would take the chance right now, wouldn’t he? But he didn’t. She turned around, slowly. Looked at him, ran her fingers down her coat, stopping just above one breast.
He looked at her for a long moment, pulled on his leather gloves, and buttoned up his coat. “I got a call,” he said, and his voice sounded apologetic.
“When?”
“Just now. In the coatroom.” He placed a hand at the base of her spine and guided her gently toward the revolving doors. The air outside was cool and fresh. “I have to go back to work,” he said as a huge black car rolled up toward them.
“In the middle of the night?”
He waved to one of the cabs waiting outside the hotel and held the door open for her.
“This wasn’t how I was hoping the evening would end,” she complained as she sat down in the backseat.
Mattias bent down, studied her, and then kissed her on the cheek—a long, lingering kiss.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Here.” He handed her a bag with the Grand Hôtel’s logo on it, and then closed the door. He waved one last time before he jumped into the huge black car that had pulled up behind the cab. The moment he closed the door, it drove off.
Jill told the cab driver her address and then opened the bag. Mattias had given her a box of chocolates. She opened it, took one out, and chewed thoughtfully as Stockholm passed by outside. Well, after tonight, it was fairly safe to say that Mattias wasn’t a consultant after all.