“No woman should love a cheater or a liar,” Hamid agrees gravely. “But with an angel such as you, a liar would choke on his deceit. You are fresh air and flowers. Sweetness and spice. I know what I shall prepare for you.”
For the first time all night, Selena seems genuinely impressed.
“And for you, sir.” He looks at me, making his assessment. “You are strength and command. A leader. You are roasted and smoked, but you need sweetness to balance the bitterness. I know what I will make for the two of you to celebrate love, commitment, and the unending circle of life.”
While his words are poetic, they are also terrifyingly prophetic. I try not to focus on the "bitterness" comment as he walks away.
“You're right, he is lovely,” Selena whispers. “I certainly don't want to upset him. He treats food like a religion.” She takes a sip of her wine and immediately scrunches up her face.
“Is the wine not good?” I can't imagine anything not being top-notch here.
“Nothing tastes great these days. I think it's the stress.” She glares at me again. “I'm still a little sick.”
“Yes, well, I've heard your boss is an asshole.” I chuckle, trying to keep the mood light.
“You would know.” She tries another sip but gives up.
“Would you like me to order you something else? I want you to enjoy the evening.”
She looks at me as if I’m crazy. The glass of wine in her hand is seventy-five dollars.
“No, I’m fine. It’s delicious. I’m just scared out of my wits.Whyam I here?” The poor thing really does look terrified.
“I am expecting you to say yes,” I preface.
“I’m sure you are, but that doesn’t mean I will.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Hear me out. Wait until I’ve finished, please.”
Now I’m a little nervous. Selena is the only person I am going to ask. If she says no, I have no plan B. My only other option is a high-end escort or my friend Cayden’s younger sister, who actively hates me. I can’t stomach the thought of anyone other than Selena.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m going to be made a partner in the firm. But I need to erase a certain reputation.”
“A reputation?” She raises a brow as our first course arrives.
It is a beautiful tangle of bitter greens, beets, tomatoes, and saffron-infused goat cheese with sweet yellow melon.
“Chef wants you to enjoy the first course,” the waiter explains. “It is a mix of bitter greens and sweet Thrakiotika melon, to remind you that in every tangle there is richness and grace.” He leaves one plate and two forks.
“It looks like we're sharing,” I note.
“I’m fine with one plate,” she says, picking up a fork. “You were saying...”
“I need to clean up my act.” I spear some greens and cheese.
“You do,” she agrees dryly, taking a bite.
“I need to marry you.”
She nearly chokes on the melon. Her eyes widen.
“Sorry,what?”
“You’re the only woman I can stand to look at for a year or more.” I am laying this out more honestly than I intended.
“I’m sure El would love to marry you,” she counters.
