My heart is heavy as I pop the coq au vin and the potatoes in the oven, mulling over everything Ana said. She swears Callan didn’t ask her to talk to me, and I believe her. She’s changed, and I think she was honest.
I called my parents as I made dinner, telling them what Ana said about Mara. It’s not beyond what we know Gwen is now capable of, and we had previously discussed the possibility, but there is no way to prove it. Dad did a bit of digging a few years ago, but the medical examiner said there was no way to know if Mara had fallen or been pushed, and the case was closed, already ruled an accidental death.
Thinking about that bitch pushing that sweet old lady down the stairs makes me equal parts mad and sad.
Footsteps approach, and I remove my apron and walk toward the door. Seán beats me to it, appearing in the kitchen carrying a massive bunch of red roses.
“I hate this tension between us,” he says, offering them to me.
“Ditto. Thank you.” I bury my nose in the scented petals. “Seems like we had the same idea. My peace offering is coq au vin and garlic and cheese gratin potatoes.”
“Will it keep until tomorrow?” He grips my waist and reels me toward his body. “I made reservations at the steak restaurant in town.”
“Oh. Of course.”
“Good.” He kisses me deeply. “I’ve missed you,” he adds, lightly biting my ear. “Go get ready.”
“This is very posh for downtown Ryemont,” I murmur as the hostess leads us across the room. I’m glad I wore my fitted black dress now. It has a high neck and an open back, with soft material that hugs my curves, stopping just above my knee. I’ve paired it with black and gold heels and the expensive earrings and matching bracelet my fiancé bought me for my last birthday. There’s a necklace too, but that’s back in my jewelry box.
The room is exquisitely decorated with a mix of traditional and modern features, including walnut panels, warm brown leather seats around circular oak tables, modern lighting, and soft music in the background.
“It’s pretty impressive for a small town.” Seán keeps his hand on my bare lower back as we walk to our table.
The hostess stops beside a table at the rear of the room, propped against the wall. “I hope this table is to your liking, sir.”
“This will suffice.”
Seán slips her a twenty, and she’s wearing the biggest smile as she thanks him and sets menus in front of us. He pulls out my chair and pushes it in after I’m seated before claiming his own chair across from me.
My fiancé has impeccable manners because his father drilled them into him from the time he moved to the US when he was eleven. Whatever childhood he had ended when his mother died and he moved with Liam to New York to live with his father, his new wife, and their young son. Every facet of his existence was mapped out with military precision. His future was cemented because he was the eldest son and the chosen heir.
I’m not a fan of Ronnie Devlin.
His sons aren’t either.
A shadow looms over our table, and I look up, blinking at Travis Garner.
“Astrid. Seán. It’s good to see you.”
Seán frowns, and it quickly transforms into a full-blown scowl when he glances behind Travis.
Oh fuck no.
“This is a little awkward,” Travis says, looking extremely uncomfortable. “We didn’t realize you had reservations, or I would have moved ours.”
My eyes find Callan’s as soon as I lean back and stare at the table across from us. He’s seated beside a stunning brunette, who is currently staring at me with curiosity. Riley waves from the other side of the woman. An unfamiliar blonde woman and a dark-haired man round out their table. I smile at Riley before dragging my gaze back to my fiancé.
“I have asked the hostess if we can move,” Travis continues, “but as you can see, the place is packed, and we’ll have to wait a while for a new table.”
“It’s fine, Travis,” I say, at the same time my fiancé says, “Just tell Hunt to leave, and we’re good.”
An angry flush crawls up my neck. “Seán! That is rude.” I’m embarrassed as hell as I tilt my face up to Travis’s. “Callan does not have to leave, and you don’t have to move tables. This isn’t the workplace, and we’re all adults here.” I narrow my gaze atmy fiancé because he seems to have forgotten that fact. “It’s impossible to avoid one another in a place like Ryemont.” I force a smile on my face as I stare at Seán. “My fiancé grew up in the city, so please forgive him.”
“Do not apologize for me.” His face is like thunder.
I’m tempted to kick him under the table. “Seán, please. Be reasonable.”
“It’s okay,” Callan says, appearing beside his business partner. “I’m leaving.” His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showcasing the ink Ana mentioned on his left arm.
