The Hunter's Angel

The Talk

"So, what's your deal?" 

Hunter was studying me intently as he sat across from me at the small patio table. After following me inside Roaster's, he patiently waited for me to place my order before placing his. Despite my objections, he refused to allow me to pay for myself, acting like I was delusional for even trying. 

We'd been waiting for our order for 15 minutes, though I couldn't blame the cafe since they were packed with customers. It was Sunday morning after all. 

"Excuse me?" I asked with a cocked brow, crossing my legs under the table. 

Hunter's eyes traveled down my body, and there was a grin on his face as he gazed back up. "You have a decked-out pad in Los Angeles that I know must run you a pretty penny - not to mention that beauty you have parked outside - and it seems like you spend your free time partying it up. So, what's your deal? Is daddy rolling in the big bucks?"

I threw him a pointed glare. 

Before I could respond, the waiter showed up with our drinks, along with a buttery croissant for me. Placing my latte and pastry on the table, as well as Hunter's coffee, he flashed us a friendly smile. "Enjoy." 

Hunter and I both thanked him in unison. Well, at least he had manners. 

I turned back to Hunter with a bitter smile as he sipped his drink. "I worked hard to get where I am. I spent years saving up for that "beauty" outside, and I don't care for free hand-outs. My father does pay for my apartment, but if it were up to me, I would be living in a shack if it meant I didn't have to put up with him. He insists on covering my rent because it helps him sleep better at night knowing he's not a total prick, and won't let up no matter what I say."

"As far as the partying," I continued, "It's not something we do every day. My friends and I work hard during the week, and we like to enjoy our time off during the weekends. Don't make any assumptions about me, because you don't know the last fucking thing about me."

His grin faltered slightly as he saw the anger flaring in my eyes. "I didn't mean any offense," he insisted. "Fuck if I'm not one to understand family dilemmas. I wrote the book on daddy issues," he quipped with a small smile.

My irritation cooled down at his joke, and I took a sip of my latte, the smooth flavor warming up my throat.  

"I respect your perseverance, I really do," Hunter recommenced. "Where do you work?"

I exhaled deeply, unsure if I should answer. Then again, the man knew where I lived, I didn't think it would make much of a difference if he knew where I worked. 

"Hawthorne Media," I replied, "though I'm just an intern for now. Once I graduate I plan on securing a permanent position." 

His eyebrows raised in interest. "Damn. That's a big company. So I take it your studying business at..." he trailed off in inquisition. 

I stared at him with suspicion. "Is this an interview or something? You're asking a hell of a lot of questions."

Hunter smirked, holding his hands up in defense. "Sorry, Angel, just trying to get to know you a little better. We are going to be spending a lot of time together, after all."

I dropped the spoon I was using to stir my drink, the metal clanging on the wooden table. "What are you talking about?" I stammered with a wary gaze.  

His eyes lit up with humor at the sight of my dropped utensil. "You didn't think I was just gonna let you off the hook, did you?"

No, I wasn't that dumb. But I wasn't planning on spending any time with the douchebag, either.