Or about Nebraska.
He tilted his head sideways as he chewed, his sculpted jaw grinding, and examined me until he swallowed. “Nebraska is a US state, right? I thought my understanding of US geography was pretty solid. It’s a state? You grew up in Nebraskastate?Or is that the town?”
“We knownothingabout each other.” I almost let my head fall forward into my hands, but I stopped just before my palms and fingertips smeared the half-inch of makeup slathered on my face. Clementine’s makeup artist had done wonders. Ididn’t want to mess it up. “Oh my God, I’m totally going to screw this up tonight.”
“We won’t mess up. Just stay on my arm. I’ll do the talking.”
I must have looked dubious or terrified, because Nicolai leaned forward, his silverware still embedded in the steak on his plate. His lowered voice sounded as if he were commanding the future. “Wewillbe fine.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing. Wouldn’t it be better if you just locked me in an attic for this year like Mr. Rochester did?”
He scalpeled another precise cube off his steak. “We won’t be reenactingJane Eyre,Lexi. My point about horses is that, when one is riding a horse, one wants quiet hands. You don’t want to oversteer the horse. It makes them anxious if you’re always tugging on the reins and bit.”
That auburn dress wouldn’t last ten seconds on horseback. “Wait, do I need boots or jeans for tonight?”
“No horses. Tonight, I want you to directyourselfwith quiet hands. I’ll be with you the whole time. Defer to me, and it’ll look like we’re in love or something. No one will question us.”
I decided to take Nicolai’s word for it even though I was sure he was vastly overestimating my ability to remain silent.
“Okay.” I choked down my supper because I didn’t want to go into this trial by fire hungry, of all things. “Okay, fine.”
I ate carefully, making sure that I didn’t mess up my makeup or hair because Clementine had obviously gone to a bunch of trouble to send those people over, and I didn’t want to look ungrateful or like I didn’t care.
Because I was grateful, and I did care.
My bleached-blond hair and makeup looked better than they had for my own wedding. Clementine’s people had givenme a “purifying facial” that had sucked-closed all my pores until my skin looked like pale tan porcelain, and then they’d done Michelangelo-level airbrushing that made my eyes look enormous and liquid like an anime character.
The hairstylist had tutted over my bleach-job as she’d applied products and curled, sighing as if her soul were troubled, and left her card with the words “complete color and structure restoration” written in spiky letters.
I didn’t want to mess up their hard work, so I was careful while I ate the room service supper with Nico.
Nicolai used his silverware differently than I’d been taught my whole life, not switching hands after he’d cut a bite of steak with the knife and somehow maneuvering his fork so that the tines always curved downward. His ease made it look elegant.
I looked like I was juggling a machete and a pitchfork while chomping down my chicken breast and baked potato drenched in ranch dressing.
His lack of concern concerned me. Shouldn’t he be quizzing me or stuffing information into my head?
Shouldn’t there be elocution lessons?
But he knew these people. He’d probably be able to predict what was going to happen because he knew them and how they behaved at events like this.
I was probably being paranoid, overthinking and spiraling about the wrong things again.
I should just go along with whatever he said.
See? It was going to be fine.
Just like he said.
Fine.
Nicolai set down his fork. “One more thing.”
Panic.“Oh, God, no!What?”
His quick glance up at me from under his eyebrows might as well have been telling me to calm the heck down. “Iunderstand you have an emotional attachment to the wedding rings we used for our ceremony last night, but Clementine made a good point. Given even a few hours’ notice during business hours or not being dreadfully away with the fairies last night, those arenotthe rings I would’ve bought my wife.”
Away with the fairies.
