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I bring my glass to my lips and take a drink of my tea. Before you shake your head, I'm not going soft. I'll be hitting the scotch soon enough, don't you worry, but for now, I'm taking it easy.
"So, what brings you two here?" Becca asks us, her brows knitted. She's trying to act casual.
Lorna turns to me and smiles. She brings her hand to my neck and gives it a gentle, affectionate squeeze. I can't help but picture her hand as a baby anaconda slithering around my shoulders and threatening to squeeze the life out of me at any moment.
"We're having a romantic night out," Lorna replies.
I nearly choke on my tea. Romantic? Is that what she calls this? That's a laugh. But of course Becca doesn't know any better. She's having a hard time wrapping her head around all of this, and honestly, I don't blame her.
It's 360 degree change from the last time we spoke.
It's true that I've been playing along, but this meal, together with Lorna, is far from romantic.
Becca eyes me suspiciously, but again, I look away. I still can't stand to look her in the eyes.
Just then, a waiter approaches us, bringing our food.
"Here's one plate of seared Ahi Tuna ribbons, with minted Mizuna salad and soy and toasted peanut dressing," the waiter says, placing it in front of Lorna.
"And here's one plate of basted prawns with spicy, golden pineapple, and smoked bacon," he continues, this time placing the food in front of me.
Our entire table smells of the Far East.
"Last, I have a side of toasted quinoa pilaf."
He places this one in the middle and then turns to Becca.
"Would you like to order anything ma'm?"
She has the menu open in front of her and is scanning their offerings. Just when I think she may not actually order anything, and it was all for show, she responds.
"Yes, I think I'll just have a salad—the Chicken Cobb, but please go light on the blue cheese … and buttermilk dressing."
"You bet. One Chicken Cobb will be out shortly ma'm," the waiter says, nodding his approval.
As soon as he leaves, and Lorna has Becca's full attention, she leans over and playfully kisses my neck and cheek. She's resting against my shoulder in what feels like an overly exaggerated way.
It feels that way because it is.
I catch a glimpse of Becca and her cheeks flush a deep pink.
Fuck. I can barely stand it.
This is killing me to go along with Lorna's games.
"This place is beautiful, isn't it Mason?" Julian asks me, turning toward me all of a sudden.
I nod, but don't say a word.
"And this is just the beginning," Lorna continues, raking the tips of her red fingernails through my hair and against my scalp. "We have quite the evening planned." She is now dragging her manicured hand across my chest.
She's trying so hard to rub all of this—her and I, and this meal, and this time together—in Becca's face, and it seems to be working.
Becca is becoming visibly upset, but she's working hard to keep her emotions in check. The waiter brings her salad and she instantly uses it as a diversion, crunching into the lettuce with her fork and scooping up some of the buttermilk dressing.
"Darling, excuse me for one moment," Lorna says, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I need to use the restroom; I'll be right back."
"Take your time."
