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She was speechless. Eventually, she said the only thing she was sure of. “You don’t like me.”
“No. I don’t.” There was no hesitating about his confession.
The door opened and Lucian walked in. He was speaking on his cell phone and nodded in acknowledgement at Slade, then leaned down to kiss her temple. Slade relented with the stink eye and she took the opportunity to slip into the back room. She couldn’t expect everyone to approve of her, especially when, like Slade, they discovered where she had come from.
Scout found the remote control on the table and turned on the television. TV was something she had rarely enjoyed. She couldn’t find the show about Gilligan, so she put on cartoons. The cat chased the mouse and the mouse always got away. She settled onto the bed and watched, thoroughly entertained.
Laughter bubbled past her lips when the mouse caught the cat on fire. She wanted to catch Slade on fire. Smirking, she imagined him, in his tailored suit and fancy shoes, hopping around like the cat on the television as his devil tail smoked. She grinned evilly.
After the cartoon with the cat and mouse, a new skit with a roadrunner came on. This one was more frustrating than entertaining. Lucian knocked on the door and she quickly shut off the television.
He smiled and looked at the blank screen. “What were you watching? I heard you laughing.”
“Oh. Nothing.” Scout moved to the edge of the bed and adjusted her skirt, the move distracting Lucian’s gaze.
“Slade’s invited us to dinner.”
After her initial shock, she deflated. She’d missed Lucian all day and now that he was home she wouldn’t be able to enjoy him. He was different around other people. Even when they’d visited his house and Slade left, he wasn’t the same as he was when they were alone. Jamie was his oldest friend and she could even see a difference in Lucian in his presence.
“Do you not want to go?”
She could tell he wanted her to go. “No, of course I’ll go. I just want to change.”
He stepped close to her, his front pressing into hers as he ran a finger under the low-hung neck of her sweater.
“I like what you’re wearing,” he whispered.
Scout thought he would kiss her, wanted him to. With the high heels of her boots, she could almost reach his mouth. Pushing onto the toes of her feet, she leaned further into him. Her palms glided up his chest and over his shoulders and he gently circled her wrists with his fingers and stepped away.
“Slade’s waiting.”
When he left, she sulked, not understanding why he no longer seemed attracted to her. It wasn’t fair, because she was growing more attracted to him by the hour.
Thinking about the night he took her virginity, she decided part of her adverse reaction was due to fear and ignorance. She didn’t think it would hurt as much the second time, now that she’d already had him inside of her. But she was beginning to think she might never find out. Lucian seemed determined not to touch her.
They took the limo to a tiny, dimly lit French restaurant called The Speakeasy. Scout was silent on the drive over and sensed Slade judging her a little more with every mile. Lucian seemed oblivious to his friend’s distaste with his choice in “company.”
Since the menus were in French, Lucian declared that he would order for her. She didn’t tell him that the language was irrelevant.
“Perhaps Evelyn would care to try some escargot,” Slade said.
Lucian narrowed his eyes and ignored his friend’s comment. When Slade called her by her real name he did so with theatric snootiness. She didn’t know what was worse, the way he said Evelyn or the disapproving way he spoke when he called her Scout.
Being a glutton for punishment, she asked, “What’s escargot?”
“It’s a delicacy,” Slade said with a reptilian smile. “You should try it.”
She looked at Lucian, who was reading the menu. “Snails,” he said without looking up, sensing her question.
Her lip curled and she glared at Slade. He chuckled and perused his menu. “It does require a more sophisticated taste,” he grumbled under his breath snidely.
Did he think she was unaware of the difference in their backgrounds? She figured it was time to put an end to the cryptic jousting.
“You know, where I come from, if you ate bugs you’re considered crazy, but you rich folk pretty it up with some fancy French name and feel superior. Seems, since I’m the one who’s never been dumb enough to eat a snail, the sophistication rests on my side of the table.”
Lucian chuckled and she smiled at him. With mirth in his eyes he turned to his friend. “Don’t be a prig, Slade. She’ll make you regret it.”
Slade’s color rose from warm caramel to the color of fresh maple syrup. He gave up his campaign to make her feel like a fool for the time being and she tried to enjoy as much of the meal as possible.
