With a slow, deliberate stride, Arése walked over to my table, pushed out the chair with his expensive shoe, and took the seat just beside me.
No greeting. No hesitation. Just straight-up intruding into my sacred eating space, similar to what he did back in the library.
I blinked at him, still chewing. My expression remains casual. "Sup?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping against the table. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the sheer rich energy radiating off him.
Then, finally, he spoke. "You're not very good at avoiding people, are you?"
I swallowed the small amount of lasagna in my mouth before I answered. "I don't know what you mean."
His lips curved into something that was almost a smile, but not quite. More like the I-know-you're-lying expression professors give when they know you didn't actually read the assigned chapters.
"Let's cut to the chase," he said, voice smooth and businesslike. "About the laptop—"
I held up a finger. "First, let's talk about something more important."
He raised an eyebrow, as if questioning why I cut him off. "Which is?"
I pointed at my tray. "I am eating."
Didn't your parents teach you to remain silent during the grace period? Besides having an Asian-slash-Christian mom, it's now everyone's etiquette to be quiet.
The silence immediately settled between us, thick with unspoken judgments. But then, to my absolute horror, he reached forward, grabbed my fork, and took a piece of my sacred lasagna.
I gasped sarcastically, although I was genuinely horrified by the fact that he was acting this familiar already. "Sir. That is a crime."
He took a bite, completely unbothered. "Consider it as a payment for wasting my time."
I narrowed my eyes and secretly clicked my tongue in annoyance. "You invaded my personal space. That's a fine of two lasagna bites."
He smirked. "I can afford it."
I sighed dramatically, stabbing my remaining food with a fork. "Why are you like this?"
He leaned in slightly, eyes sharp. "Tell me about the laptop."
I took a sip of my coffee, stalling. "Tell me why you're harassing a broke student over some random laptop."
By the way, what do you mean laptop? Are you some reseller of a broken laptop or some good person who wants to bless me with an upgrade, specifically MacBook Pro? If the latter, I humbly accept.
Arése didn't blink. "Because I don't believe in coincidences."
Great. A rich man with trust issues. We're the same, then the difference is I'm broke.
I sighed, helpless. "Look, I genuinely don't know what you're expecting to hear."
Arése studied me for a long moment, as if trying to read something off my face. I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my brain was running in circles, trying to figure out what kind of psychological games he was playing.
Finally, he sighed. "I see."
Oh, god! Thank goodness. He was giving up.
Then he added, "I guess I'll have to stick around until you slip up."
…What?
My brain stuttered. Did he just say that out loud? Was that a joke? He didn't seem like he was joking.
"What?" I asked, hoping I misheard.
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for my drink—my coffee—and took a sip using the same freaking straw.
I stared at him, utterly offended.
"That," I said slowly, "was mine."
He set the cup back down with a smirk. "Consider it as an interest."
I wanted to cry. So bad that my eyes obviously twitched in annoyance.
Why are rich people evil? I took a deep breath, trying to mentally reset before I committed a crime. "Alright. Let's say, hypothetically, I did have something to do with this mysterious laptop situation. What exactly do you think I did?"
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering my words. "You tell me."
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "So, you're just here to annoy me until I magically confess to something I don't even know about?"
He shrugged. "It's worked before."
"Oh, my god."
I was dealing with a man who had both money and time to waste. A truly terrifying combination.
At this point, my food had lost all appeal. I pushed my tray slightly away, resting my chin on my palm as I stared at him. "So, what now? You plan on tailing me like some dramatic private investigator?"
"If I have to."
I sighed. "Aren't rich people supposed to have, like, stocks to trade and business meetings to attend? You're telling me you have nothing better to do than bother me?"
"I make time for things that interest me," he said smoothly.
I frowned. "And I'm interesting?"
He didn't reply immediately, but his silence was an answer in itself.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Is this some weird business tactic? Reverse psychology? Trying to make me self-conscious? Or just some cult masked as some business plot?"
He smirked. "Is it working?"
I made a strangled noise of frustration. "You know what? Fine. Be my guest. Waste your time. But don't think for a second that I'll make this easy for you."
He leaned forward slightly closer to me, as if amused by my reaction. "Oh, I wouldn't expect anything less."
Ugh. Smug rich people were the worst of all! He look like some 'I'm swinging both ways, and you're my newest type!'
At this point, I accepted my fate. He wasn't going to leave anytime soon, and I didn't have the energy to argue with someone who could probably buy out this entire street if he wanted to.
Instead, I grabbed my fork from his hand and stabbed my lasagna with slightly more aggression than necessary. If this was going to be my reality now, I might as well enjoy my meal before he decided to tax me for existing.
Arése watched me for a moment before speaking again. "By the way."
I chewed and looked up. "What?"
He smirked. "You should be more careful."
I raised an eyebrow. "Of what?"
His gaze flickered to the window, where his car was parked. "You'd be surprised how many people take an interest in a seemingly harmless student."
I swallowed, feeling an odd chill run down my spine. "Is that a threat?"
He chuckled. "Just a friendly warning."
Sure. Because every time a rich, vaguely threatening man gives a "friendly warning," it always ends well.
I didn't reply, instead stabbing my lasagna again, trying to pretend that conversation didn't just happen. And, I could feel him watching me, as if waiting for a reaction. But I refused to give him one. If he wanted to play mind games, he'd have to try harder than that.
Arése leaned back in his seat, finally looking satisfied. "Enjoy your meal, kid."
Then, just as suddenly as he arrived, he stood up, straightened his sleeves, and walked out.
I stared at his retreating back, completely lost.
What the hell just happened?
I wasn't sure what was worse. The fact that he was still suspicious of me or the fact that he had somehow made this whole encounter feel like he was the one in control.
I sighed heavily, picking up my coffee. The same coffee he had just drank from.
I groaned, dropping it back onto the table. And once again said in my mind, rich people really are evil.