Were these men all cut from the same cloth? Probably. It takes a certain type of person to work in theirindustryafter all. The greed and selfishness required to have the drive they do makes things unsurprising. Either that, or my grandfather has painted a biased picture of me, and the Irish Demon believes it.
Alasdair exits the car first, not even acknowledging my grandparents’ little back and forth. I scoot towards the door to leave, and I’m surprised to see his hand reach towards me, a silent offer to help me out of the limo. His hand is calloused, with a ring on the thumb. It’s gold, with a large red ruby-like gem on top.
My hand slides in his, and his fingers fold around mine, firmly grasping my hand and actually helping me out. I find myself standing before him, blinking up into those steel blue eyes that always seem to be analyzing me. Are they searching me for faults? I’m sure he’s already finding plenty.
He steps to the side, pulling me with him so my grandparents have room to depart the vehicle. His hand slides around my waist, the heat of his hand seeps down to my skin, igniting it. I take a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill my lungs, thetwo sensations contrasting with each other and making my head spin. His touch distracts me from the constant blaring noise of the city.
I notice how my grandfather gets out first, but steps to the side, not offering my grandmother any assistance. Still, she acts like the perfect lady, sliding out with a grace that I don’t think I’ve ever exhibited a fraction of in my life.
The limo leaves, and I move to lag behind the group as usual, letting others lead the way, but the man next to me has a different idea. He takes charge, stepping forward to enter the restaurant first, but his hand is still on my waist, so I’m practically dragged along with him.
There’s live music playing as we step in, a smooth jazz that fills the establishment with a lively, classy feel. My heels click softly against the dark wood of the entrance, a black chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and fine paintings on the walls. The dining area is hidden from our sight by a large plant arrangement, mostly greenery, with golden orchids peeking out amongst the leaves. The hostess podium stands in front of the plants. A young woman looks up at us as we enter, a polite smile on her face. “Hello, how can I help you tonight?”
“I have a reservation for four under Alasdair.” The Irish Demon’s chest rumbles with his deep voice, his Irish accent making him sound sophisticated, like he belongs in a place like this.Maybe that’s a good reminder of how different we are. Pay attention, monkey brain.
I’m pretty sure it’s more focused on the Irish Demon’s hand on my waist than anything else.Dumb.But I can’t blame it for wanting to focus on that instead of the panic that’s threatening to consume me. It’s just trying to cope.So maybe not so dumb after all.
The hostess smiles prettily at him, glancing down and nodding. “Yes, sir. Right this way.” Her eyes scan me up anddown. As she turns, it looks like she rolls her eyes. I take a deep breath, thinking nothing of it, but Mr. Alasdair’s grip on my waist tightens ever so slightly.
I can hear my grandmother talking about how pretty everything is as we enter the restaurant. My gaze is fixed on the floor to watch where I’m walking, but at her words, I look up. My eyes widen slightly.
Each table looks to be made out of dark wood, and has an arrangement of fresh orchids and candles on each one. The back wall holds a giant waterfall, and floral frescos decorate the ceiling. It looks like something out of a fairytale.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” That rich, Irish lilt rumbles into my ear, far too close for comfort. I tense and don’t dare to turn my head, but just nod as I keep looking around, although my attention is far more pulled to the man walking next to me now. “Shh, don’t be like that, leannán. I’m not going to bite you.”
I purse my lips slightly. What did he just call me? It was pretty, especially in his accent. “I’m fine,” I say softly.
He chuckles, and the vibrations flow straight through my side until I feel it through my whole chest. “Fine? I don’t think so, love. You’re trembling like a rabbit caught by a wolf and you haven’t looked at me fully once tonight.”
Somehow, as I look out over the spacious restaurant, it reminds me of this morning, of walking through that dank diner, of the horrors I witnessed…
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to focus on the present so my panic doesn’t rise up and overcome me. But it’s difficult. Everything feels too tight, suffocating.
As we arrive at our table, the hostess puts down our menu and says something about our waiter, but I barely hear her. As I look at my grandfather, all I can see is him torturing those men earlier. The Irish Demon pulls out a chair for me, and I smooth out my skirt as I sit in it. “Thank you,” I mumble to him.
I can feel his eyes on my face, searching it. I pick the skin around my nails, trying to calm down. I don’t know why this restaurant is reminding me of that diner, since they’re practically worlds apart, but it is. I could even smell the moldy, stale scent of it for a moment, and it makes my throat feel tight.
“Leannán? Are you all right?” He taps my arm, and I hastily nod. “Not very convincing, little one. Try again. Did they do something to upset you? Or was it the bitch that brought us to our table?” I shake my head. He’s quiet for a moment, and then his voice is raspy, almost hoarse. “I don’t believe you. I’ll have her fired.”
My eyes jerk to face him. “No!” My exclamation is louder than I normally talk, and my cheeks flush red in embarrassment. My grandparents turn to face us, arching their brows. My eyes are locked on his steel blue ones, and I can see a small smirk form on his face, as if he’s glad he finally got my attention. “She didn’t do anything.”
He reaches up and taps my chin. “Then why don’t you tell me what’s the matter, leannán, and I won’t have to make assumptions.”
My grandfather gives a hearty laugh, but it’s obviously forced. “Ah, don’t mind her. She’s a bit spooked after our bonding time today. She learned some hard lessons, but I think it’s for the better. I think you’ll be quite pleased with the progress we made today. The reality of life caught up with her.”
The Irish Demon’s eyes narrow slightly, his expression growing colder, and then slowly turn away from me to meet my grandfather’s. “Did I ask you, Astero?” My grandfather stutters in shock for a moment, trying to come up with a reply. The Irish Demon leans forward in his seat, his jaw clenched. His gaze is threatening, as he stares my grandfather down for a moment. When he feels like my grandfather has squirmed nervously inhis seat enough, he turns back to me, his gaze softens. “Are you upset because of whatever he’s referencing?”
I try to swallow the knot that’s in my throat. I slowly nod.
My grandfather sputters. “Of course she’s going to be upset. But even you said yesterday that she needed to be properly exposed to our world!”
The Irish Demon holds up his hand, silencing my grandfather. His eyes remain on mine, even as my grandfather talks. “What did he do?”
My throat suddenly feels even tighter. I don’t want to talk about it, especially not here, in front of my grandparents, directly tohim. It doesn’t feel safe. Nothing has felt safe since my grandmother told me about this whole ordeal. I open my mouth to tell him, but nothing comes out. Everything in the restaurant feels loud, but the silence at the table is deafening. My brain feels like mush as I try to come up with a response.
The edges of the Irish Demon’s eyes crinkle as he notices my difficulty. His eyes are searching mine. My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I struggle to keep tears from pooling in my eyes from the intensity of the emotions I’m feeling. I look down at the table.
The waiter walks up and introduces himself, asking what we’d like to drink. I vaguely hear my grandparents ordering when the Irish Demon leans in towards me again, close enough that only I can hear his words. “Do you like red wine?”
