“That’s your business. Though if you wanna tell me, I’m all ears.”

I give him a grateful look, not saying anything more. I’m not fond of reciting stories about myself, so in this case I don’t want to tell him. Perhaps another time when I’m feeling braver. Nobody feels brave at breakfast. Dinner is the meal of bravery. Lunch at a push.

We finish eating, and Jay offers to drive me to the office.

“I’m fine getting the bus,” I say, not wanting to put him out, even though I really want to go with him.

Jay cocks a brow. “You want to ride the boring bus or experience the fucking sexy beast that is my car again?”

An unexpected laugh erupts from my throat. “I think it’s a little early for experiencing sexy beasts.”

My response surprises me. There’s something about Jay that brings out my flirtatious side, and, to be honest, I never really knew I had one until now.

Jay steps closer, his smile matching my own. “It’s never too early for that.”

I shake my head and go to grab my handbag, needing to put some distance between us. He’s definitely unnerving. So unnerving. But in the best way.

“Okay, then, you can drive me.”

“Get ready for the ride of your life, Watson.”

I have to say, his confidence is quite the turn-on.

Five

“So, eh, you’re not planning on cheating tonight, are you?” I ask on the drive.

Last night while I’d been reading up on blackjack, I’d noticed an article about counting cards and got a little nervous. I had this vision of being hauled into the back offices of the casino by some scary bouncers. There’d be a bunch of migrant workers sitting at long tables, counting money in their underwear, while some old mob boss character would threaten me with a gun for trying to cheat the system.

Okay, so maybe I’ve been watching a few too many heist movies. I’m not even sure if there are mob bosses in Ireland. Not the proper Italian ones, anyway. Chinese triad, maybe.

Jay laughs quietly, his hands loose on the steering wheel. “You really think I’m a shifty fuck, don’t you?”

“I never said that! It’s just that you do what you do…and I’m sure you must know how to count cards.”

“You been doing some detective work, Watson?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply, crossing my arms.

“I mean, have you been looking me up?”

I snort (rather unattractively). “Noooo.”

“Lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Another lie.” He chuckles. “You’ve got to remember the behavioural science crazy uncle, Matilda. I can tell when someone’s telling a fib. Mostly.”

I let out a sigh. “Fine. I might have come across a YouTube video.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He looks at me sideways, his eyes smiling. “Were you impressed?”

“Obviously. I’m still trying to figure out how you managed to get that girl’s card up onto the screen in the nightclub.”

“That was a fun one. But if you’re hedging for me to reveal my secrets you’re shit out of luck.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.”

He nudges me with his shoulder. “Hey, don’t look so sad. Maybe I’ll tell you one or two sometime if you’re really, really nice to me.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound sinister at all,” I say, deadpan.

Jay laughs. “Look, I’m not going to be counting cards, so you don’t have to worry. The secret to good gambling is to know when to bet and when to stop.”

“How very vague. That tells me nothing,” I groan.

“Watch me tonight and you’ll learn,” he says, pulling the car into a parking spot close to the office. “Now, out you get, and have a good day at work, munchkin.”

I slide out of the car and turn to face him. “Oh, please, no. Watson I can handle, munchkin, not so much.”

He raises his hands in the air. “Hey, we’ve got to eat a few sour grapes before we get to the sweet ones.”

I just shake my head at him and turn to leave. All the way to the office I can hardly keep the smile off my face.

***

My day passes in the usual mundane fashion. Every hour that brings me closer to home time makes me more and more anxious. I’ve gone through a number of outfit possibilities in my head for tonight. Jay said to wear something nice, but I can’t tell if he meant “nicey nice” or “sexy nice.” I’ve always adored fashion, but I’ve never been able to pull off “sexy nice,” so I suppose “nicey nice” is the direction I’m going to have to take.

I settle on a pretty dark blue tea dress that I made myself. It reaches just past my knees, and I’ll match it with my coveted black Louboutins. They’re probably the only “sexy nice” item I own. I mostly wear them for special occasions, but I’m thinking my first foray into the world of casino gambling definitely counts as special.

When I arrive home, I pop a ready meal for one in the oven, since Dad’s working late in the office with Will and then he’s going to the book club. When I go upstairs, I pass by Jay’s room and see the door’s wide open. He’s sitting on the floor, messy stacks of books all around him and dozens of sheets of paper with indecipherable handwriting spread out on the wood floor. The bin is full to the brim with crumpled papers and his laptop is open, playing a video of a surgeon carrying out some kind of operation. Quite bizarre.

I’ve always been squeamish about blood, so I look away.

“I didn’t realise you were home,” I say, standing in the doorway. His head comes up, his eyes meeting mine as he scratches his jaw. His hair is all dishevelled, which for some reason makes me want to touch it.

“Matilda. How was your day?” he asks, shoving some of the papers aside and pressing “pause” on the video. I take one step inside the room.

“Good. Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Ah, just working out some new tricks.”

So he’s not studying to become a surgeon, then. “So you’re definitely not quitting?” I ask, curious.

He shoots me a wry look and laughs harshly. “What, because some bitch who doesn’t even know me decided to sit at her computer and rip me a new one? Hell to the fuck no. It’ll take a lot more than a few articles to put a stop to me.”

I don’t know what to say to that. In fact, his passionate anger puts me a little on edge, even though it isn’t directed at me, so I change the subject. “Do you want dinner? I’m just making something quick.”

“No, I’m good. I already ate.” The flat tone and faraway look in his eyes give me the impression he’s somewhere else right now, so I quickly take my leave.

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Be ready for eight,” he calls after me, his eyes returning to the laptop screen.

“Will do.”

I close the door and go to my own room. Jay’s demeanour seemed different just now, mercurial somehow. Granted, I’ve only known him a day, so I’m sure there are many more sides to him than the witty charmer I’ve known him to be.

I eat dinner in front of the TV. Jay doesn’t come down at all, still up in his room doing his research, or whatever it is he’s doing. A while later I’m in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches to my makeup, when there’s a tap on the door.

“Knock, knock, can I come in?” Jay asks from outside as I clip a strand of hair at my temple.

I get a momentary jolt but then realise I’m decent, so I say, “Sure.” Still, I find it a little odd that he wants to come in here.

He steps into the small room, casual as you please, wearing a dark shirt and slacks. The first button of the shirt is undone, showing a hint of the tattoos at his collarbone. He lets out a low whistle, and I can’t help but blush. “You scrub up well, Watson.”

I focus on putting in my contact lenses as his eyes trail down my legs to my feet. “Nice shoes. Real nice. They make up for the conservative neckline.”

“Uh, thanks. I think.”

I have my contacts in now, and his eyes are still on my shoes, a thoughtful expression on his face. Then he swallows. What the hell is he thinking about? I brush on some lip gloss and I’m done. Jay’s still standing behind me, but now his eyes are on my face. I can’t really decipher his look, since I’ve never had a man stare at me like he is. The only way I can describe it is somewhere in between hot and smouldering. Yikes.