His lips curl up with amusement. A gleam lights his hard eyes, softening them just a bit. “I love when you try to evade me like this. I’m not sure why. I think I’d find it annoying if most people tried it, but you’re so goddamn earnest. I guess I like playing with my food before I eat it.”
That doesn’t fill me with confidence that he plans to let me leave here untouched.
I swallow, instinctively wanting to reach for the pepper spray, but this isn’t the time.
“Do you remember what we talked about at the wedding?” he asks.
The steadiness of his dark-eyed stare is unnerving. Even as the chef walks over with our salads, his gaze doesn’t flicker away from me. I’ve never been the object of someone’s undivided attention like this, and I don’t know how to process it. “I.. Yes, you said that—”
In a bout of utter fucking insanity, perhaps conditioning that runs too deep to be tossed aside when it clearly should be, I stop talking and my gaze flickers to the chef. I’m horrified to realize I stopped talking because I didn’t want to say something incriminating about Calvin in front of a witness, and even more mortified when Calvin realizes the same thing.
He doesn’t say anything right away. He watches me, his intrigue deepening. “Interesting.”
It feels like I’ve swallowed my heart. I open my mouth to object to my own unthinking behavior, to take it back and explain that I wasn’t looking out for him—that would be insane! But before I can utter a single word, he goes on.
“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’ve already explained to Chef Ryan that we’re roleplaying tonight. He won’t take any crazy thing you might say seriously.”
Heat climbing up my neck and blooming on my cheeks, I raise my gaze to Ryan’s, but I feel so embarrassed. Not for the reason he clearly believes I do, though, as he offers a reassuring smile and a wink to let me know he’s not judging.
I know I’ve just inadvertently fucked myself. If I had any hope of appealing to him for help, I’ve just squashed it. Before I might have been able to convince him Calvin is a lunatic who made that all up to cover what he was actually doing, but if that were the case, he wouldn’t be a lunatic I want to protect. He might eventually realize maybe I wasn’t kidding—once I’ve been missing for a while and show up on the news.
“That wasn’t—” I stumble awkwardly over my words. “I didn’t—”
Calvin interrupts. “Have a drink of your wine, Hallie. I already told you that taking advantage of you while you’re passed out isn’t my kink, didn’t I?”
I don’t know if it’s my awkwardness, not knowing what to do, or the subtle tone of command in his voice, but I find myself reaching for the glass. I watch him over the rim as I take a sip, but he doesn’t appear to be impacted one way or the other by my taking a drink. That’s probably a good sign.
“Since you don’t look like you’ve won anything, I suppose that was the right choice,” I murmur.
“I suppose it was.”
I can’t tell if the wine tastes off. It’s a red, and I prefer white.
I swallow it, anyway.
A brief hit of desolation settles around my shoulders. I don’t like not knowing what to do, how to stay safe. I want to leave, and that compels a more honest question. “When can I go?”
He cocks a dark eyebrow as he pauses with his fork halfway to his salad. “We’ve just started eating.”
“Yes, but you’re forcing me to do all of this. If we can skip the meal and I can take Marie and go home, I’d like to do that as soon as possible.”
His prior warmth dissipates and a cool front sweeps in. “You’re not going anywhere, Hallie. We’re on the salad course. There are still three meal courses and a dessert to go.”
“And after that, can I leave?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” he answers coolly.
“What does that mean? How do you decide whether or not to further break a person?”
Calvin takes a sip of his wine, watching me in that unnerving way of his. As he replaces the glass on the table, he asks, “Do you know why we’re having three courses tonight, Hallie?”
A frown flickers across my face.
What does that have to do with anything?
He answers when I don’t. “We’re having three courses because the first taste of something is always the best. When the flavors are new and you don’t know how they’ll dance across your tongue. The second bite is good, too. Different from the first, but this time there’s anticipation. You know you’re going to like it, you’re eager to taste it again, and then you do. But what happens after that second bite? The excitement begins to fizzle. It’s all downhill from there. I like three small courses because you get the very best parts of the experience, and by the time you’re growing weary of it, it’s over and on to the next.”