“Our dessert will be a fresh fruit tartlet and a decadent chocolate cheesecake bite served with a fresh raspberry sauce. I hope you all enjoy.”
He ducks out for just a moment before carrying a tray. Angela stands next to him, serving everyone around the table. Murmurs of conversation pick up around me as the plates fill up with bits of Caprese and tuna bites. One by one, the men pick up the proper utensils as they start to dig in.
A nervous giggle escapes my lips as I mimic Doctor Rayne and slip the napkin onto my lap. His lips turn up in a small smile as he makes exaggerated movements on our behalf. Across the table, Chelsea also watches us, her hands faltering now and then. The iron band around my chest eases slightly, knowing that I’m not the only odd duck out.
“I’ve never heard of squab,” Melody whispers to me in that not-so-quiet voice. “Have you?”
“Madame, squab would be pigeon,” Jerry interjects, winking at me. Good. He’s the same Jerry I’ve been eating with for weeks now.
Chelsea’s fork drops with a clatter, startling all of us. “Wait. Pigeon? As in New York, flying rats, pigeon?”
“I can assure you, Madame, that I am an excellent chef. I will never serve you a street bird. Squab comes from farmed, domestic pigeons.”
“They’re baby pigeons, are they not?” I look over at Master Jeremy, ice creeping into my veins. I’m not against meat; in fact, some of my favorite dishes feature it, but a baby?
“Correct, Master Jeremy. Now, if there are no more questions involving the validity of my cooking, I’ll take my leave.”
“That spoon would be incorrect, Chelsea. You know which one to use. Or do we need another lesson?” Grigori’s gravelly voice, though low, reaches our side of the table. That would explain why she was doing so much better than us.
“Are you sure she’s messing up by accident?” Melody pipes up, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Uh-oh. I know that tone. “Knowing her, she’s probably angling for some punishment.”
“Oh, as if you’re so innocent, Melody,” Chelsea sneers, her lips curling back like a feral dog. “You may act all sweet and shy, but you don’t fool me for one second. We all know if you hadn’t been claimed, you would have spread your -”
“That is enough!” Master Jeremy’s voice rises, silencing everyone at the table. Sergei walks forward, hand snaking into his jacket. With a shake of Master Grigori’s head and a wave of his hand, Sergei shrugs and heads back to his wall to watch us.
“It’s high time you and Chelsea learn to get along,” Master Jeremy continues. “What happened is in the past. I have you, and Grigori has her. As far as I know, you’re extremely happy with this arrangement, yes?”
Melody drops her gaze to the table. “Yes, Sir.”
“And you, Lastachka?”
“Da.” The venom practically drips from her mouth as she stares at Melody.
My insides twist as I watch them glare at each other. Anxiety prickles the back of my neck as the tension grows between them. All I know is I need to come to the defense of my sister. For so many years, I couldn’t be there for her. Now, I have a chance to make up for it. “Look, Chelsea, I don’t think -.”
“You don’t know shit about it, so stay the fuck out.”
Doctor Rayne leans forward, hand in front of me as if to shield me somehow. The gesture is sweet but unneeded. I’ve heard worse. What hurts, though, is I thought we were friends. She’s the one that saved me when no one else cared to look. Without a word, Master Grigori rises from his chair and grabs Chelsea by the ear. She yelps as she stands but otherwise doesn’t fight him.
“Where is your bathroom. I have some unruliness I need to see to. Obviously, my cock up her ass before we came wasn’t enough to convince her to behave.”
“Angela will show you.”
Nodding, Master Grigori drags her away from us, pausing to speak to Master Sergei for a moment. His face pulls down into a frown, but he stays put, his eyes never leaving Angela’s ass.
“Melody Davenport,” Master Jeremy growls. “I warned you to not engage with her.”
“But I -!”
“No buts. The only butt you need to worry about is yours when we get home.”
She slumps down into her seat and continues picking at her food. Minutes go by, and no one talks. The only sound is silverware scraping plates and loud, sobbing screams. I keep looking over to Master Sergei, now joined by Angela, but he doesn’t seem concerned. Both he and Angela talk in hushed tones, so low that no one can hear them.
After what feels like an eternity, Master Grigori and Chelsea walk back in. Her hair and clothes are messed up, and bright red blotches dot her face. She takes her seat, sniffing every so often, but says nothing.
“Lastachka?”
“I would like to issue a formal apology to Melody. I need to be better at controlling my temper. I’m sorry, Chastity, for snapping at you. I am deeply sorry, Doctor Rayne, for interrupting your dinner.”
“Apology accepted,” mutters Melody at the same time as Doctor Rayne. Both pause and look at me.
“Oh. Sorry. Yes. Apology accepted.”
Angela walks over to the table, clearing our plates. Not everyone is done eating, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Do fancy dinners have a time limit on the courses? One by one, the plates disappear until the entire table is cleared.
“Isn’t Master Sergei going to eat with us?” He seems so alone over there, only smiling when Angela stands by him.
Master Grigori lifts his head from where he was still scowling at Chelsea, a smile easing across his face. “You do not need to call him Master. Mister Sergei will do just fine. And no. He needs to be keeping alert and guarding me, not eating. But don’t worry, he will get his own nice meal when we get home.”
Doctor Rayne snickers next to me. “If he watches you half as closely as he does Angela, then I’d say you were the safest man in the world.”
Looking behind me, I note Angela’s downcast eyes as she fiddles with her apron. She doesn’t normally mess with it. She’s usually upright with her head tilted forward. How did Doctor Rayne even know she was back in the room? I hadn’t even heard her come back in. I glance over at him as he shares a secret smile with Master Grigori.
“She have big titties. I like big titties.”
The room erupts into laughter except for Melody and I. Chelsea, I assume, is used to this man, but his way of speaking makes me feel very uncomfortable. I’ve come to understand that women are objects to these men, but to hear it in such a crass way just reminds me how much we have no say in our situations. I turn to give Angela a sympathetic smile, but she’s all grins as she looks over at Sergei. Perhaps I’m just missing something.
“Next appetizer is coming out now.”
As Angela puts the next appetizer out, everyone starts to dig in except Melody. As I thought, she pushes the mushrooms around her plate, ensuring they don’t touch the meatballs. Glancing over, I wait until all the men are engaged in a heated debate on the merits of rubber as a means of discipline. One by one, I shuffle the mushrooms over to me and move a few of the meatballs over to her.
Master Jeremy glances over, catching me in the act, but says nothing. The smirk he gives me as I scuttle my plate away is enough. What a difference a few weeks have made. He doesn’t seem at all mad at me for hitting him, even though he was furious when it happened. Perhaps he knows I have a more intimate understanding of how things work?
I shake my head and try to change the subject. “You never did get a chance to explain about Brazil.”
“Mom and dad said you decided to be a missionary. I tried to call, but they said you had no service there. What happened to you? Even Billy said you’d left him for God. I thought it was weird, but when even he said it, it had to be true.”
“What happened to her is not a conversation for this dinner table,” Doctor Rayne interjects, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. Is he protecting me? From what? My sister needs to know sooner rather than later. But he’s right. No one should be eating while I recount the horrors I went through.