My jewelry box is understated, simple cherry wood with anMcarved into the top, but the pieces inside areanything but. Nearly every item came from one of my Aunt April’s excursions. Rubies from East Tethema, pearls from Ausland—but what I’m after tonight is my favorite. I pick up a wide gold cuff, admiring the engravings along the entire surface. It’s so thick it looks as if the maker had to merge two pieces together, the bottom half made of obsidian.
Wearing jewelry my aunt gave me is my silent rebellion against my parents. It annoys them every time, but isn’t egregious enough for them to say something about it.
Opting for a rideshare seems best in case my mother’s attitude drives me to drink, so with one last check in the mirror, I pull out my phone to call for the car.
The ride to the restaurant is pretty quiet—me, lost in my thoughts, and Caspian a steady force next to me. When we arrive, I thank the driver and get out, then grasp my mate's hand as we walk up to the maître d’.
“I’m… We’re here to meet someone. The reservation should be under Grant?” I give the beta my sweetest smile.
After a brief moment of searching, he responds. “It says they were only expecting one guest.” He looks Caspian up and down with obvious disdain, and I nearly growl. The maître d’ startles, and I realize I must haveactuallygrowled. Oops. “But I’m sure we can accommodate your… partner. Please, follow me.”
We follow, never breaking our hold on each other. When we arrive at my parent’s table, surprise flares in my mother’s eyes, but she quickly gathers her composure and schools her expression.
“Hello. I’m Robert.” My father stands, reaching a hand out to my mate, who just stares at it. Fuck, there’s so much I didn’t even think to tell Caspian. I should have given himthe run down in the car, but it isn’t like I can give him Etiquette 101 at this point.
My father’s eyes narrow as he slowly drops his arm and looks at me. “Madison. Nice of you to join us. And this is?” His eyes flick to Caspian.
“Hi, Daddy.” I give him the expected kiss on the cheek. “This is…” Fuck. Even though I’ve been stressing about it all afternoon, I still don’t know how much I should tell them. Do I tell them everything? Well, obviously not the merman situation. You know what? Ripping the band aid off is probably best.
“This is Caspian. My mate.”
Spluttering comes from the table where my mother is choking on the water she was sipping. My father goes to her aid, patting her back and soothing her before glaring up at me. Is it hot in here all of a sudden? Jeez.
Once he’s sure my mother will live, he addresses us again.
“Sit. Clearly we have some very important things to discuss.”
20
“Le Petit Palais? Do you haveLe Petit Palaismoney?” I glare at my best friend.
“No, but you do,” Phoenix snorts as we walk through the ornate glass doors.
He must have made reservations, because though the restaurant is of decent size, it fills up quickly. Not that I come here that often, or ever really. I’m more of an order in and have a drink on the couch kind of guy. People are exhausting, and I use most of my social battery up dealing with students and faculty all day.
We’re led to a table by the large windows that reveal a gorgeous view of the sea. I wonder if Phoenix requested the placement, he truly belongs in the water. He loves it so much.
“Bonsoir messieurs. Can I get you started with something to drink?” The terrible accent from beta waitress nearly makes me cringe. I order a bourbon neat, and Phoenix orders some weird beer they have on tap, then the woman scurries away.
“Do they really have to do that? As if this place isn’t pretentious enough without the staff faking accents,” I gripe at my friend.
He shrugs. “Doesn’t bother me. Plus, it’s the only place in town to get good escargot.”
“Ah, yes. Do it for the snails.” I chuckle. The waitress returns with our drinks then takes our entree orders. It really is nice to get out of the house, especially to spend this rare time with Phoenix who isn’t usually in one place for this long.
We’re sitting silently, sipping our drinks, enjoying each other’s company and the beautiful view, when a voice I recognize rises over the general hum of restaurant chatter.
“It’s not really up to you who I end up with or what I do for a career.”
Madison. She sounds upset.
Scanning the room, I see her two tables away along with a shock of blue hair. I turn to Phoenix and narrow my eyes at him, but the asshole just smirks back. I should have known he had an ulterior motive for coming here.
Attempting discretion, I watch the table out of the corner of my eye. Madison’s mate has his hair pulled back into one of those man-bun styles, and somehow he pulls it off. A man and woman across from them speak in low tones I can’t make out. Madison, on the other hand, isn’t quiet in the slightest, and she’s as tense as a first year student before finals.
“And you wonder why I never call or visit? This is why!” she yells.
I clutch my glass of bourbon so tight my knuckles turn white, wishing I could go to her. But it isn’t my place.
