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He grabs my left hand.
I swallow hard, feeling my body seize tight.
“Violet, look at me.”
I look up but shove the crouton in my mouth.
“Can you please trust me?” he asks, voice gentle, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. “You don’t have any reason to, other than what you’ve seen from me so far. Have I given you any reason not to trust me so far?”
I chew what’s in my mouth, swallow, and then take a sip of my wine. I reach for my napkin with my free hand and dab my mouth before I answer. “I’m sorry. I’m being bitchy. Fear of the unknown must be why.”
He shakes his head. “We haven’t connected properly in a couple days. I’m sorry if you’ve been stressed out about tomorrow on top of the stress of worrying about your grandfather. If you hadn’t avoided me all week, you wouldn’t have to feel that way. I could’ve put your mind at ease.”
“But I had to avoid you,” I whisper.
“Why?” he asks.
And God, his eyes are so green. And his lips look so - why are his lips so sexy? It’s not fair.
“Because… you know why.”
“Because I kissed you?”
I swallow and look down at my plate.
“Because you kissed me back?” he tries.
I nod. “It’s too soon, Killian. I’m not ready for-”
“Violet…”
“Why did you give him that well-paid job in Atlantic City if you didn’t even like him?”
Our dinner plates have arrived.
And he’s staring at me with intensity the likes I’ve never seen.
And I think I have my answer. This has been weighing heavily on me, too.
He sent Ray out of town to give me a breather. He did this for me.
“Still working on that?” Kay asks.
Another server is beside her, holding the two steaming plates.
I shake my head. “No, it was delicious, though. You can take it.”
“Mine, too,” Killian says, squeezing my hand before he lets go.
Kay takes our plates, and the other server sets down our dinner plates.
The smell hits my nose and I begin to salivate.
Kay is quickly back with a fresh drink for Killian and a bottle of wine, to top up my glass.
As soon as they’re gone, I ask, “Did you hire someone you hate just to give me a breather?”
“Something like that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I don’t know why you bought yourself all this hassle.”
“Let’s enjoy our dinner, Violet. And then go enjoy the show. After that, we’ll try to get some sleep and then we’ll see what tomorrow brings.”
“It’s not looking good, though. I mean, I’m guessing you haven’t heard from him at all. Are you watching him?” I whisper that last part with my hand over my mouth.
“Shh. Enjoy your dinner, baby. Can you please just trust me when I tell you it’s all going to work out?”
I want to.
“Trust me,” he repeats.
The warm expression on his face tells me he sees that I want to.
“I’ll try,” I whisper and then I slice into my steak.
“Good girl,” he says and slices into his.
How is it that I have so little information but yet I keep trying to just trust him?
***
“That was the worst play I’ve ever seen in my life,” Killian tells me, laughing hard, as we leave the theater.
“I’ve seen one that was worse than that, but yeah, that was bad.”
“Worse than that?” He jerks his thumb behind him.
“Not only was the other one lousy, but the venue wasn’t great either. A rat ran straight by me just before we got to the door. It wasn’t even afraid of people. This place was swanky compared to that place.”
This venue wasn’t exactly spectacular. Our drinks were watered down. There were technical difficulties with their spotlight, and the lead female forgot her lines twice, but it might have been due to the spotlight issues.
But I was in my glory. And I forgot about my problems for ninety minutes.
“How did you find that?” I ask. “So much interpretive dancing!”
“I called your bank teller friend for ideas to take your mind off your worries.”
I bark out laughter and this earns me a smile before he explains.
“She said it was not only aptly named based on our current predicament, but she also said you’d tell me afterwards that it was the second-worst play you’ve ever seen. And that it makes it the second-best play you’ve ever seen?” He tilts his head with confusion.
“Which totally makes sense!” I gesture with a hand at the obviousness of the situation.
“I think you might be a little crazy,” he tells me. “You seek those things out? That’s time you can’t get back.”
I nod uber-fast. “It’s so much fun. It started by accident. I love bad musicals, cheesy slasher films. Suse stumbled upon an article with a list of the worst musicals of all time and we made it a mission to see them all. From there it spiraled into more bad stuff. Anything with a slew of bad reviews, we were all over it.”
