“Hm. That didn’t seem to be the case when you were antagonizing Ben the other night, little sparrow. That was very unwise of you.” It came out sharper than he intended and she drew herself up indignantly, hands planted on her hips.
“I just wouldn’t be so quick to write off the lives of someone I loved if it were me.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. You don’t know what it’s like here for us. For her.”
You don’t know the fate that awaits you in those woods.
He gripped the wheel tighter. “You can’t save everyone.”
“Tell me the truth then. Is your family hiding something about Noelle? Or am I the only one who’s not allowed to lie?”
“Nadine,” he sighed.
Tell her.
End this now.
Let her go.
“Cal?” Her voice shot into his thoughts like an arrow. “What is it?”
Tell her.
“It’s nothing.” He shook himself, arranging his face into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Let’s go.”
She tried to catch his eye but he avoided it deftly, keeping his sights trained dead ahead with the inclement weather providing the perfect excuse.
The restaurant was badly weathered and as he held the door open for her to enter, he clocked a veritable greenhouse’s worth of fake plants.
The waiter put them near the back, which suited his purposes just fine. This time, rather than sitting across from her, like he had at the diner, he sat next to her instead. It was a small booth: her thigh pressed right up against his, soft and firm, and temptingly close to his right hand.
She tugged off her slicker with quick, agitated movements that made her necklace swing back and forth over her cleavage.
Flipping through the badly xeroxed menu, he took in the brightly colored fish and sauces, and thought this had the bitter pall of a last meal.
“Get whatever you want,” he told her.
“Okay.” She stilled her necklace, fingers closing around the N. “Thank you.”
“Thomas says you haven’t been eating lunch.”
“You’ve asked him about me?”
Darling, I have an entire dossier on you.He toyed with the fish-shaped bottle of soy sauce. “Let’s just say you’re relevant to my interests.”
Let her puzzle over that, he thought, as the waiters took their orders.
“I’m surprised you’ve never tried to order for me.” She pushed down on a glass marble to open her bright pink drink. “Isn’t that supposed to be a hotshot rich guy move?”
“I figured you’d know what’s best for your needs.”
“Y-yeah, that’s true. But some people, um, don’t see it that way.”
Again, that flash of chagrin. Her eyes slid from his but not before he caught the glimpse of pain in them. Beyond her was a window, bare of shutters. The rain showed no sign of stopping, sloshing down the glass in thick runnels. Its watery reflection rippled over her skin.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Really?”
