Sam picked up his fork and tried the risotto first. The flavor hit his tongue like a wave – very rich, earthy, and intense. He swallowed, reached for his water glass, and took a sip.
“Good?” Rux leaned forward, practically vibrating with anticipation.
“It’s incredible.” Sam meant it. The food was definitely amazing. “You’re really talented.”
He tried the chicken next - lemon and herbs, beautifully roasted, and the skin crispy and golden. But theportion on his plate was massive - a full breast and thigh, enough protein for two meals.
Sam forced himself to take another bite, then another, aware of three pairs of eyes tracking every movement of his fork. The bruschetta was drenched in olive oil. The vegetables were cooked in butter. Even the salad glistened with dressing thick enough to coat his teeth. His stomach started to protest after the fourth bite. He set down his fork, took a breath, and picked it up again.
“Try the ravioli,” Urien suggested quietly.
Sam tried the ravioli - homemade pasta, delicate, stuffed with ricotta and spinach. He managed two before the richness made his mouth feel coated.
“And the salmon…” Rux started.
“Maybe some pizza?” Mabon offered at the same time.
They both stopped and looked at each other, then back at Sam. Sam felt alaugh bubble up in his chest. They looked like they were trying to feed a particularly picky dragon. The thought made him pause mid-reach for his water glass.
Three men. All gorgeous. All wealthy. All focused entirely on him with an intensity that bordered on...
No. Thatwasobsessive.
Sam looked at his plate. He’d barely made a dent. The chicken sat half-eaten, the risotto mostly untouched. Around him, platters full of food waited like an accusation. He couldn’t possibly eat it all. He couldn’t even eat a fraction of it.
“This is...” Sam picked up his water glass again, buying time. “This is so much. It’s all delicious, really, but I couldn’t possibly...”
The words died in his throat as all three faces fell. Disappointment rippled across the table like a wave. Rux’s shoulders dropped, Mabon’s expression went carefully blank, and Urien’s hands stilled on the table.
Sam’s chest tightened. He’d done something wrong. He didn’t know what, but he’d clearly failed some unspoken test, or missed some crucial point they’d been trying to make.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean - it’s not that the food isn’t good. It’s amazing. You clearly put so much work into this.”
No one spoke. Sam looked at his plate, at the barely touched feast, then at the three men surrounding him. Nothing made sense.
Maya’s voice echoed in his head:Three men are courting you, Sam.
But that couldn’t be right. People didn’t court someone like him.
Sam set down his fork with a soft click against the porcelain. The sound seemed to echo in the silent dining room.
“Okay.” His voice came out steadier than he felt. “I need to ask. Why are you doing all this?”
Three heads lifted.
“The gifts at my door, the attention, the flowers. Trying to buy the Daily Bean.” Sam gestured at the table. “This dinner. I don’t understand.”
His throat tightened. The question had been building for weeks. The three men were so far out of his league they might as well be from another planet. Because they were, weren’t they?
And Sam was just...Sam. He was the friend, the nice guy. The one people liked but didn’t want. And maybe that was okay - Sam had made peace with it, mostly – but the lavish dinner, andall three menfocused on him like he was something precious?
It felt like a setup. Like any minute, they’d start laughing, reveal the cameras, and explain this was all some elaborate social experiment about how far gratitude would take a lonely barista.
Had anything the men done suggested that was the case? No. But Sam still didn’t understand and while asking the question would hurt and confirm every insecurity he’d spentyears trying to bury, not asking and continuing to hope like an idiot would hurt worse when the truth came out.
“Is this some kind of bet? A dare of some sort?”
Rux made like a wounded animal.
