Maneater

Chapter Thirty-Three

    "You've been on edge all night."

    Crystal wasn't used to men who paid as much attention to her as Austin did. He pointed out habits of hers she was completely unaware of, made note of the small freckles peeking out through her Fenty Beauty foundation, or commented on her behavior in a way that was completely foreign to her. She was used to men being so self-involved, they couldn't see beyond themselves, much less be clued into how she was feeling. So every time Austin felt the need to point something out about her, it always threw her off. "I don't know what it is," she said, glancing around the empty, high-end restaurant. "This entire night I've had...that feeling. You know? The feeling of someone watching you. I don't know. Just ignore me." Busying herself with spreading a linen napkin across her lap, she avoided his direct gaze.

    "I've kind of had the same feeling," he confessed. "But then again, I'm me. I guess I just assumed I had that feeling because people were actually eyeballing us all night."

    "Yeah, but I have the feeling even here. And no one else is here, except the staff."

    He glanced around and shrugged. "Maybe they're spying on us. Or maybe they set up cameras to record us before we came in. They had enough time."

    "Is that like...a real thing? Something you really have to worry about?"

    He gave her an amused look. "Are you kidding? My fans beat me into my own hotel room on any given city that I'm touring in. Everyone's looking for the get-rich-quick scheme, and capturing candid photos of celebrities, trapping them by getting pregnant, or scamming them out of their money, whether from an orchestrated car accident or fight or whatever the fuck, seems to be the way people have decided to get their fifteen minutes of fame."

    "Damn," she muttered just as a team of waiters filed out of the kitchen all the way across the restaurant. 

    The uniformed waiters formed a perfect line and weaved their way between tables, each holding an array of trays that carried food and beverages.

    Crystal wanted to watch the procession and enjoy it, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood at full attention. Clapping a hand to the back of the neck, she slanted a look over her shoulder. There were so many dark corners in this place, so many different doors leading to coat rooms and lounge rooms and only God knew where else. Someone could be hiding in any one of those nooks. And why did she care about that enough to feel anxious about it? If someone was watching them, so the fuck what? The person wasn't doing anything to hurt them. It's not like there was some imminent threat or anything. But still... Her eyes roamed across the restaurant.

    Initially, the thought of a man clearing out a restaurant had impressed her. That wasn't an everyday experience. Well – maybe it was for Austin, but it definitely wasn't something that she was accustomed to. At first she'd loved the idea of having the restaurant to themselves but now, there was something creepy about the empty tables and darkened corners. It was akin to the feeling she'd felt in the past when she'd been in high school or a library after hours. Halls upon halls or rows upon rows of utter darkness. The sense that you were alone, but not really.

    Austin gently rested a hand upon her forearm. "Chill," he said coaxingly. "Everything is fine."

    "Okay."

    "Instead of worrying about who may be watching, you should be thinking about what's next on our agenda."

    "Which is?"

    "You decide."

    "I don't know, this is your show," she said as the waiters set out tall, narrow folding tables for the array of trays.