I sit in the chair Birdie points to.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never had it," I manage to say as I run my hands over the rich wood of the dining room table.
“Well, let me fix you up a plate. You just eat what you like and leave what you don’t, okay?”
Birdie flits away, and I sit silently, staring at my hands. It’s not lost on me that the happy conversation I heard before I walked in was apparently killed off by my arrival. Each of the paladin now sits silently at the kitchen island.
Birdie sets a heaping plate of food in front of me, and my taste buds are frenzied with excitement. I look up at her with a small smile and mumble thank you. I take my first bite, close my eyes, and moan in pure ecstasy. I open my eyes and notice Birdie still standing there, watching me.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten," I confess to her as I shovel in another bite.
Birdie’s face lights up, but she also looks a little sad. I’m not sure what to think of that, so I just focus on the fantastic food in front of me. Each bite is a bliss-filled experience, and before I know it, the plate sits empty.
Birdie must see my disappointed expression when I look down at my empty plate, because she steals it away and replaces it with a new full one. I give her an elated grin as I dig into my second helping.
I can feel eyes on me, but I can’t even be bothered to care or feel embarrassed, the food is that good. I finish my second serving and have a long debate with myself about licking the remaining sauce off the plate. I decide showing even more of my inner heathen this soon could be a bad move, so I resist the call of the sauce and stand with my plate in hand.
“Where do you think you’re going, my love?” Birdie asks me, as I carry my plate toward the sink.
This feels like a trick question, and I hesitate.
“I was going to wash my plate," I tell her, and it comes out like I’m asking a question.
“Oh no, love, that’s my job," she tells me cheerfully and reaches for the dish in my hand.
I pull it away out of her reach. “You cooked, and I don’t mind cleaning up after myself," I explain to her.
Birdie just smiles at me and pats my cheek. The next thing I know, my hand is plate-less, and Birdie is humming away at the sink. I stand there open-mouthed and baffled, trying to figure out how that just happened. I suspect magic was somehow involved, and I conclude that I’ll need to step up my game for that sneaky, plate-stealing Birdie.
“Vinna," Aydin calls my name, pulling from me from my plans for a dishwashing counterattack. I turn my attention to him.
“I need to go get some things in town today. You want to come with and check things out?”
“Is it shopping? Because if it is, I’ll pass. I hate shopping," I tell him.
“A small amount of shopping may be involved, but you won’t hate it," Aydin assures me.
“Challenge accepted," I mumble, and Aydin’s resounding laugh echoes around the kitchen.
“Bring your money. I’m going to get a bank account set up for you," he shouts to me as I head toward the stairs to get dressed. I give him a thumbs-up over my shoulder.
* * *
Aydin parallel parks his fancy sports car that I don’t know the name of, in front of a brick building with ivy growing up the sides and encroaching on the front. As I tilt my head in consideration of the sight, I discover that I’m slightly obsessed with the look of the deep green plant taking over the sun faded brick. It completely encapsulates what I envisioned buildings on the east coast to look like.
We walk up to the door, and Aydin presses a buzzer. A man’s bored voice comes through the speaker asking if we have an appointment. Aydin doesn’t answer one way or the other. He merely announcesAydin Calixinto the speaker and steps back to wait. A couple of seconds later the door gives a buzz, and I follow Aydin through.
He guides me into a posh sitting room and tells me to take a seat. I’m scanning the room, searching for clues as to what this place is and what we’re doing here when a gorgeous blonde woman comes out of nowhere and greets Aydin with an open-mouthed kiss. I’m a little surprised, but I try not to gawk at the public display. Eventually, they separate, and I spot Aydin’s blush covered cheeks.
“Staysha, this is Vinna Aylin. Vinna, meet Staysha," Aydin offers in introduction after taking a moment to compose himself.
Staysha’s eyes widen in shock when Aydin tells her my name.
“Lachlan?” she asks, aghast.
“Vaughn,” Aydin replies.
She stares at him, her eyes burning with questions. He gives her a subtle shake of his head, which causes a professional mask to shutter over her features.
