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Isiah looks surprised but smiles as Akhil leaves to fetch our drinks. “Since when do you drink whiskey?”
“You’ve drunk wine most nights, it’s only fair that I try your favorite drink.”
“It’s much stronger than wine.”
“Are you suggesting I can’t handle it?”
He shakes his head. “I think you can handle anything, love.”
I hate the way that statement makes me feel, especially coming from a man who told me he thinks women are merely instruments for a man’s pleasure.
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I distinctly remember you stating that a woman’s input in any matter other than how to look after children was useless.”
His smirk widens. “Perhaps I was telling your father what he wanted to hear. After all, he was the one who decided who you married.”
The man is crafty, and it makes me wonder which parts of his character I’ve seen are real, if his opinion on this matter was merely a way to trick my father. I need to broach the subject of what exactly he wants revenge for and what he intends to do to my family.
Akhil places our whiskeys down on the table. “Shall I bring your starters?”
Isiah nods. “Yes, please.”
He scurries off to go and fetch them and a silence falls between us.
While I might abhor my father, the rest of my family, as stupid as most of them are, have done nothing to wrong Isiah. “You really hate my father, don’t you?”
His eyes flash and he shakes his head. “Enough talk of your family. The food is coming.”
“Mozzarella incarozza,” Akhil announces, as he sets down two plates of delicious breaded cheese in a homemade tomato chutney.
I smile at Isiah for a moment, forgetting all my suspicions and worries about the man before me. “It’s my favorite starter.” I tilt my head. “How did you know?”
“I have my sources,” he says, taking a sip of his whiskey.
I don’t question him, while I like fish and curry, I’ve been getting sick of it. So, I delve into the delicious cheese and take a bite, groaning at how good it is. “This is amazing.”
“Good, otherwise I would have had to kill the chef.”
My eyes widen and he starts to laugh, a deep and rich sound that surprises me. “Don’t worry, I’m joking.”
I sigh a breath of relief. “Thank God.”
We eat in silence, enjoying the sound of the waves in the distance. Once finished, Akhil returns and clears our plates.
“What’s for the main dish?”
“I’ll give you one guess,” he jests.
“Spinach and ricottacannelloni?”
He shakes his head. “No, as you only love it from San Marino in Washington.”
“Who have you been speaking to?”
“I asked Nina for a few pointers at the wedding reception.”
