Trying to assert dominance? Insecure much?
I turn to Laura. “It’s good to see you.”
Her name is at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say it aloud.No idea why.
Our eyes meet. For a second, everything else is blurred. We stare at each other with a rude, unvarnished intensity that makes Mike shift and Laura clear her throat. There’s a spark of defiance in Laura’s eyes. It’s not even a spark, it’s a forest fire. She dares me to regret her, to feel something.
And, damn it, I do.
Happy now?
“Antoine,” she says evenly. “You’re looking well.”
“You too.”
We sit down again, Celeste and I on one side, Laura and Mike on the other. I notice Laura smoothing her dress and hair. It’s a small, nervous gesture I remember from before.
Good—I’m not the only one dealing with unsolicited emotions.
The waiter brings the menus. While Celeste and Mike study theirs, I find myself watching Laura instead. I can tell she’s aware of my gaze.I should stop.This is making her uncomfortable. I really should stop staring at her?—
Her napkin slides to the floor. Without thinking, I reach for it.
“Here,” I place it back on the table beside her.
Our fingers brush. Our eyes lock again.
“Thanks.” She averts her gaze.
“My pleasure.”
Why is my voice suddenly hoarse?
The waiter returns to take our wine and food orders.
When he’s gone, Celeste clears her throat. “So, Mike, tell us more about your music.”
More?
He launches into a rehearsed spiel about his creative process, upcoming projects and vision.
“And, of course,” he concludes, shooting Celeste a grateful look, “I’m thrilled about the possibility of working on a soundtrack for Royal Riviera Studios.”
Come again?
My mind quickly connects the dots. That’s how Celeste got Laura to agree to this dinner—by dangling a soundtrack carrot in front of Mike! I wonder if she approached Laura first, or if she reached out to Mike directly with a proposal printed on her studio’s letterhead?
“When I received Celeste’s incredibly supportive letter,” he says. “I was stoked.”
I guess that answers that question.
Mike carries on, “I said to Laura, ‘Mark my words, this is going to be my band’s breakthrough.’ Didn’t I, babe?”
She’s no “babe’”to you.My fists clench involuntarily.
Ashamed of my caveman reaction, I turn to Celeste. She’s smiling, no doubt pleased with how well her plan has worked out so far.
Our drinks and appetizers arrive. Laura reaches for her glass of wine just as I move to pour her some water. Her hand grazes mine. It’s a brief touch, but my skin tingles worse than after the napkin incident.
