“Everyone in the kitchen will be wondering where I am,” I mention.
“Let them wonder.”
That seems to be his response to everything. Anton doesn’t owe anyone anything. It must be nice to feel so un-indebted.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you stop to talk to me at the beach?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You intrigued me. It’s not every day you see a beautiful woman in a wedding dress sitting by the beach looking completely miserable.”
All of that, and my mind catches on the word “beautiful.” “Pitiful” is more like it. For all I know, he’s reading off a script he’s used to scoop heartbroken brides off the beach again and again.
“Why did you offer me a job, then?” I ask. “You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t know anything about me.”
“I trust my instincts. They’re good. Usually.”
I stop short, taking note of the dry voice and dark expression with which he adds the last word. “Usually?”
He gives me a belated smile. “Sometimes, recklessness has consequences.”
I feel a little shiver run down my spine. This time, it has nothing to do with the cold. His words make me wonder.
Is he offering a lesson… or a warning?