Emzee’s smile fades but her calculated expression isn’t totally unfriendly as she watches me cross the room toward them. Something about Emzee unnerves me. Probably because she’s Luka’s sister and I want her acceptance, even if I won’t admit that to anyone. It matters to me that the important people in his life like me. Luka and I will be spending a lot of time together, after all, and we both need their support in order to make this whole marriage thing work. I lay my beaded clutch (a vintage Melrose Avenue find) on the table and sit, unsure what to do next.
“Isn’t it nice they opened early just so we could have a private lunch?” Tori goes on.
And there’s the difference between rich andrich-rich. Alinea opens early just for you.
“I’ve always wanted to come here,” I say, nodding.
“Nice bag,” Emzee says, eyeing my purse. I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic, especially given her edgy style—a too-cool black leather jacket and silk blouse—but I thank her anyway.
A server comes by and pours wine for us, then sets down heavy glass bowls filled with a scant amount of something purple and gelatinous with little orange beads glistening on the side, a few slices of parsnip sticking straight up from the pile, and a garnish of some kind of flower. He quickly gives a description and then he’s gone.
The bowl is pretty, but the food doesn’t look like anything I want near my mouth. I take a sip of perfectly chilled white wine. It has a delicate sweetness that hits every corner of my palate. I take another sip just as my stomach growls and kick myself for not having breakfast.
“This, um…looks interesting,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.
“Oh, come on, Brooklyn,” Emzee teases. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had trout roe with grape paste before?”
I’m fairly certain roe is another name for fish eggs. “I’ll try anything once,” I say, hoping I come off as adventurous and fun rather than inexperienced and ignorant. It earns me a giggle from Tori, but Emzee cocks a brow, seeming unimpressed.
“Well, it’s two-hundred a course,” she says, “so for the love of God, eat up.”
It’s obvious there’s no room for argument. Emzee may be younger than me, but she definitely makes her dominance known.
I pick up a small spoon and hover it over the dish. “How many courses are there?”
This draws another laugh from Tori. “We’re only doing five. You’ll live.”
Emzee adds, “Normally there’s like sixteen.”
Tori takes a small sample of the roe, her expression delighted. “We’re mixing art and food today, ladies. I asked the chef to surprise us with the menu, so make sure you save room to try it all.”
Truth be told, I would have no qualms whatsoever with trading whatever this is for a Big Mac right now, but that wouldn’t go over well. I need to fit into my new world, not sidestep it. Forcing a smile, I take a small bit of the roe, mirroring Tori, who tried the paste separately. I do so too, chewing quickly, not sure I want to taste it. To my surprise, the roe bursts cleanly in my mouth, leaving a briny but not unpleasant flavor behind. I don’t love it, but it’s okay.
I go in for a second taste, mirroring the other women so I don’t make a fool of myself. Before I know it, my bowl is empty save for the flower. Emzee eats hers but I let mine be.
Our dishes are taken away and I catch Tori nudging Emzee, tilting her head in my direction. Emzee sighs, clears her throat, and says, “So Brooklyn…I want to apologize for getting off on the wrong foot with you. I know I was a brat at the engagement photo shoot.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. When it comes to good manners, sometimes it’s more polite to play dumb.
“You know what I mean,” Emzee says, narrowing her dark-lined eyes at me. “Nobody told me about the deal with Luka, and I thought you were just another greedy model trying to land my brother and take advantage. Stefan told me later that he organized the whole thing.”
Tori tosses her hair, looking a little peeved, and leans forward to add, “I think what Emzee means is that she’s super protective of her brothers and she tends to be a little quick to jump to conclusions when it comes to people who try to get too close, too fast.”
“I really get it,” I tell Emzee, meaning it. “It’s obvious you love them like crazy, and I can’t be upset that you’re looking out. In fact, I’m kinda jealous. I always wished I had siblings.”
“Aww,” Emzee and Tori chime in unison.
“Well, now you have us!” Tori says.
I smile. She’s sweet, and I wish it really were that easy, but I still feel a million miles away from the women sitting across from me.
All of a sudden, the server comes over to our table to set down a bundle of branches—actualtree branches—with feathery greenery coming off them. On top is a piece of burlap covered by an arrangement of what appear to be sandwich cookies topped with toasted pine nuts, herbs, and little dabs of honey.
“Wow,” I blurt. “I’ve never eaten anything off a branch before.”
Emzee and Tori start cracking up, and for a moment I think they’re laughing at my expense, my cheeks going hot, until Emzee reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
“Thisispretty…extravagant,” she says, dabbing a tear from the corner of her eye. “But whatever it is, it smells amazing. Is that cedar?”
