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Lucian tilted his head and frowned. “What were you thinking about?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“How did your trip go today? Did you get what you needed?”
She nodded tightly. “Yes. I even picked up something for you. When we get back you can open it.”
“A present?”
“Yes. I hope you like it.”
He placed his hand over hers and squeezed affectionately. “I’m sure I will. What else did you do today?”
“I went to the salon and met Patrice for lunch.”
“And I assume you two behaved yourselves. Or should I expect another four-hundred-dollar bar bill?”
She rolled her eyes. Get drunk and buy a few rounds one time and she’d never hear the end of it. “Don’t be silly. It was lunchtime, not happy hour. I only spent two hundred on drinks for my admirers today.”
All signs of amusement disappeared. Shit. She was only joking, but clearly her barb fell flat.
“Did anyone else join you for lunch?” His whisper was dangerous, the kind that told her there was no room for sarcasm.
“I was joking, Lucian.”
“Jokes are meant to be funny, Evelyn.”
She stilled and frowned at his snide tone. “No,” she said succinctly. “There was barely anyone else in the restaurant. Unless you want to nitpick over the waiter being male, I think I’m in the clear.”
“Watch it, Evelyn. You’re mine. I have a right to be territorial when your last excursion with Patrice ended with men drooling all over your shoes.”
She rolled her eyes. He was being ridiculous. “Those men don’t matter, Lucian, and you know it.”
“Are you sure about that? I think you underestimate your appeal.”
She met his gaze and instinctively pulled back in her chair. “Yes and the same could be said for you.”
He was in a mood. Lucian was an extremely possessive man, but she’d given him no reason to doubt her. It was a stupid joke. How could he have possibly taken it as anything more? Why was he looking at her like that? The fact that she’d been deceptive that morning was perhaps intensifying her guilt and making her a bit too prickly.
No. He was being the prick. Picking up her fork, she defensively whispered, “God, forget I said anything.”
The waiter came and refilled their glasses. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. Maybe it was time to ask him about whatever was bothering him. He’d been extremely temperamental lately.
“Lucian, is everything okay? You’ve been acting strange lately, like something’s been weighing on your mind.”
His eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I’ve been . . .” She could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been distracted over this deal I made a while back. It’s silly to worry. I’ll stop.”
“But if you’ve already made the deal there’s nothing to worry about, right?”
He placed his fork on the gold filigree rim of his plate and folded his hands at the edge of the table. “It all depends how things work out. Believe it or not, Evelyn, sometimes I make very stupid choices.”
“Well, what’s the deal about?”
“Finish your dinner. Let’s not waste the evening talking about things I can’t change at the moment. Everything will work out in time.”
He was being cryptic and she didn’t like it. Her appetite had dwindled. Taking a few more bites of her vegetables, she pushed her plate away and leaned back as the waiter cleared the table.
“Would you care for dessert?” Lucian asked.
“No, thank you.”
The waiter returned and Lucian said, “She will have a hot fudge sundae.”
As the waiter turned, she scoffed and whispered. “I said, no thank you.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
The accusation was uncalled for and she didn’t appreciate it. His crappy mood had nothing to do with her. “You’re being thickheaded.”
His eyes narrowed on her. Her mouth twitched. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. With Lucian, she had wisely learned to choose flight over fight. She stood. “I . . . I need to use the ladies’ room. Excuse me.”
Quickly, she turned to find the restrooms. What was wrong with them? It seemed like every word out of their mouths was a lie, her with her quest to locate Parker and him with his stupid deal—his words, not hers.
The guilt she had over worrying about Parker was eating at her, and that was simply ridiculous. He was her friend. She was allowed to have friends, damn it.
As she washed her hands she scrutinized her reflection. Her dark hair was down, its dark hues giving her skin an opalescent appearance. Her blue, nearly silver irises were darker than usual. She had too much eye makeup on.
Evelyn suddenly wanted to scrub her face clean. Her dress was bloodred and fit her curves like a second skin. For some inexplicable reason she resented everything she saw in her reflection. She looked so different from the girl she was only months ago, but she didn’t really like her either.
