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“Holy fuck, this place is bigger than the trailer park I live in.” I shout out loud and then realize I’ve sworn again.
I clap my hands over my mouth and look around for Eaton quickly. I’m hankerin’ for something to eat and don’t want to risk him punishing me with no food.
Lena chuckles next to me. “I used to swear like a trooper as well. You grow out of it.”
“Hopefully soon. I don’t want any more punishments.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’ll soon learn that the punishment is the best part.” She winks at me.
Lena leads me through the lounge. I glance around as I walk, trying to take everything in. There’s a strongly masculine look to the décor. It could do with a few more soft furnishings. There are no photos anywhere. I’m suddenly curious about Eaton’s family. Lena mentioned his father earlier, and I wonder about his mother.
As we enter the next room, the sound of chairs scraping along a wooden floor alerts me to the fact Eaton and Maxwell are already waiting at the table for us. Maxwell pulls the chair out next to him for Lena and pushes it back in once she’s seated.
Eaton pulls out the nearest chair to him and gestures for me to sit down. I suspect he thinks I’ll refuse, and I give him a wry smile. The truth is I’m more concerned about the lavish table settings than who I’m sitting beside. There are so many knives and forks as well as numerous different glasses, and even plates at the side of the cutlery.
“Shelby, please sit,” Eaton instructs.
“You know, I’m still not feeling well. I could take a little bite of something to my room.” I start to head toward the door I just entered.
“Sit.” Eaton growls, and I know I need to obey him.
I quickly scramble to the chair and take a seat. I don’t want any more punishments tonight, even if Lena says it’s the best part. I just want to eat and then be allowed to curl up in bed with my books.
Eaton pushes my chair in and take his own seat once again.
I lower my head toward him. “I’ve never sat at a table like this before,” I whisper. “I don’t know what anything is for. Please can I just go back to my room. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
My hand is shaking so much I place it on the table to try to steady it. Eaton covers it with his own.
“No, you are going to eat with us. I will explain everything. This is something you will need to learn. You’ll be expected to attend lots of functions with me.” He squeezes my hand, presumably for reassurance, and then releases his hold and places his hand in his lap. “Hands and elbows off the table.”
“All right.” I want to argue more, but I decide against it.
A door opens and two people in livery walk in.
“You have waiters?” I question.
“Not all the time. Tonight is special,” Eaton replies.
“Why?”
“We are welcoming you, Shelby.”
Eaton leans back as one of the waiters places a dish in front of him. I barely recognize anything on it. When I turn to mine, however, I’m glad to see a bowl of soup, although I’m not sure what flavor it is.
“You will have to eat different food from us for a while. I have a nutritionist preparing your meals. She’s advised to keep things very plain for the time being. Your body’s not used to some of the rich foods we’re eating. You also need a lot of carbohydrates to build you up. You’re virtually skin and bones, and you’ll need to have a bit more meat on you for what I have planned. Lena will be providing you with an exercise plan as well. The soup is leek and potato.”
“I…I…don’t understand.”
“Shelby, you’ve barely been eating, and when you have, it’s mostly been foods that are not good for you. Anything too rich too soon will upset your stomach.” He points to a spoon in my table setting. “Use that one. Hold the soup spoon by resting the end of the handle on your middle finger, with your thumb on top. Dip the spoon sideways into the soup at the near edge of the bowl, then skim it away from you toward the back of the bowl. Sip from the side of the spoon and don’t slurp.”
I try to do as Eaton instructs, and on the first attempt, I drop the spoon in the soup, splashing the hot liquid over the pristine table covering. The waiter standing behind me offers another spoon and takes the dirty one away. I finally get the hang of it and take my first mouthful of the soup. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tried. I can’t stop the moan of delight that escapes my lips. Eaton groans next to me, and Lena smiles my way.
“Fewer noises like that as well,” Eaton informs me.
“I’m sorry. It’s really good. So much better than cold fries.”
The rest of the meal passes without further incident. Eaton allows me a small glass of wine with my main course of plain chicken, vegetables, and potatoes. I savor every morsel.
