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“Do you need me to call for anything else?” I asked. He joined me in the sitting area with two trays.
“No. These are great.” He sat across from me. “Your staff is well-trained and talented.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, lifting the silver lid from the platter. Bella had become invaluable.
“Except the one guy.” He lifted his knife in his right hand.
I groaned. “You mean Kimble?”
“Who else?”
I stuck my fork into a bite of avocado on top of the salad the kitchen staff had prepared.
“Why do you think you two hate each other so much?” I questioned.
“Because we both have the same target.”
I lowered my fork. “I’m not a target. And Kimble doesn’t see me the way you do. I assure you.”
“Please. I’ve seen how he looks at you. I know he’s the best in the industry. I can’t fault him for his work. But the vibe he still gives off after all these years is a little fucked up, Kennedy.”
My shoulders dropped. “We’ve had such a good day. I don’t want Kimble to ruin dinner.”
“Kimble or me?” he pressed. When I didn’t answer, he backtracked. “It has been a great day. I’m not trying to kill the mood.”
“Good.” I smiled. I couldn’t help but feel remnants of guilt start to attach themselves to the happy threads between us. The guilt was working its way in, whether I agreed with it or not. I could only postpone the truth for so long. “I should probably tell you something. Something that happened while you were away.”
Knight stopped chewing. His eyes flashed to mine. “What
happened?” The playfulness left his voice.
I reached for the wine. I had Bella comb the cellar for one of my favorite bottles. It was a Ksara Rose with a little bubbly in it. I didn’t want to drink Corban champagne with Knight after the Seraphina and Crew story. We needed a few minutes to breathe on our own without being reminded of how we were going to get them to France.
I took a sip, following his eyes. “I’m fine. I’m completely fine now.”
“Shit. What does that even mean? Were you not fine?”
That was the wrong way to start the story. I’d always wondered if he had known. If somehow Raphael or Felicia had told him what happened. Surely, he kept up with New Orleans news. Wouldn’t he have asked me by now? His silence was the answer. He had been in the dark.
My eyes cut away. How was I supposed to tell him?
“Stop looking at me like that.” I needed him to back off. He couldn’t crack before I even told him.
“Like what?” He knew exactly what he was doing. Staring at me as if I were weak or fragile. I was neither of those things. I wouldn’t break if he held me too tightly.
“I’m sorry. It’s a tough topic. I’m worried what you’re going to think.”
“Then just tell me.” He pushed his plate to the side. It was possible I had ended the nice dinner we were going to share.
“Three years ago, I was kidnapped.”
I knew his eyes well enough to know that in less than a second he had crossed a spectrum of emotions.
“But, I’m completely fine.” If I kept saying those words over and over maybe they would be true. I could downplay the kidnapping for his sake. The worst parts had faded in three years.
“No.” He shook his head. His jaw was set in formidable opposition to what I had told him. “How could that happen? Who let it happen?”
The inference about Kimble was clear. “Don’t blame him.”
