The Arrangement 4 (The Arrangement 4)

I shake the sensations shooting through me away. “I’m all right, although it sounds lovely.” I smile at him and find my footing again. I’m worried about him blowing my cover, but I’m not doing a half-assed job and spending the whole night worrying about it. Today’s the day that I’ll have no regrets. I’ll do the best I can and that’s all I can hope for.

Henry and Sean order the food. I have no idea how to read the menu, since it’s not in English. I’ve never felt so stupid in my life. Henry leans in when the first plate is brought out and whispers in my ear, “It’s squid and snails in a wine reduction. Try it.”

I’m not really a seafood person. Are snails considered seafood? They crawl around in fish tanks, so maybe. Either way, I don’t like the booger texture when it comes to food that lives in the ocean.

I smile hard and pick up one of the forks. I think it’s the right one, but I’m not really sure. There’s a thingie on my napkin to hold the snail shell, kind of like pliers. Briefly, I examine them and wonder who makes these things? They’re pliers for rich people who like eating slugs in fancy restaurants. Who else would buy them? I poke my fork at the snail.

Sean watches me. The corners of his mouth twitch, like he’s amused. “Do you always eat escargot with your salad fork?”

My brows crept up my face at some point, as I tried to figure out what to do with these things. I watch Henry, and pause. That’s when Sean speaks. It’s obvious that I’ve never had them.

I smile confidently and try to grab the little beast. “Yes, I find it’s easier to rip that sucker out of his shell. Plus salad is for pussies, so no harm using the fork now and letting the waiters carry it away. Am I right?” I pull the snail out of the shell as I’m speaking and pop it in my mouth like it’s a French fry, but the texture throws me off. I make a face and nearly choke.

Henry’s eyes are about to fall out of his head. He’s lifted his glass of wine to his lips and has a horrified look on his face, but Sean laughs. It kills me to hear that sound, but I know what I’m doing with him. I know how to make Sean loosen up and how to make him clam up. I need Sean to feel happy for a little bit, to make this deal with Henry, so I can get the hell away before my life gets any harder.

Dinner progresses and Henry finally relaxes again. He speaks to Sean about anything and everything. We’re nearly through with meal and no one has mentioned the contract yet, or the thingie that Sean is selling and that Henry wants to buy. The waiter sets down a hot drink in a tiny cup. I glance at the array of spoons that I have left on the table. Henry continues to speak about something that’s so dull that it should be called matte.

Sean taps the little spoon next to the place setting. I smile at him and use it to stir the little cream-colored B into the hot liquid. That’s when Sean’s mood shifts. Suddenly, he’s all business. “I know why you wanted to meet with me Henry, and I can tell you right now that there’s no way it’s going to happen.”

Henry’s face goes slack. “Surely you can’t mean that. We haven’t even discussed what Project 597 could do for us, for you. It’s not just the sale of the patent—it’s bigger than that.” Henry’s voice is too tense.

Sean doesn’t react well to tension. I sip my hot liquid, but it’s so sweet that my lips buckle. Sean’s eyes flick up in time to see my face. He forgets himself and smirks. “Not to your liking Ms. Stanz?”

“No, it’s fine. Perfect.” I return his smirk, but Sean just stares at me. Henry sees it, notices the intensity of his gaze, but says nothing.

“Tell me, Ms. Stanz, do you intend to take Henry’s name after the wedding?” The look on Sean’s face chokes me. It’s as if he reached across the table and wrapped his fingers around my neck. My heart stops. I fall on the floor and die. At least that’s what I hope for.

All night Sean’s acted like he wasn’t going to out me, like he wasn’t going to say it, but now I see it in his eyes. This is the segue—the flourish before the grand reveal. Sean knows that Henry hired me, that Henry intended to play him.

I feel my face flush. My eyes drop. My mouth gapes open, but I don’t breathe. I can’t. The air feels thick, and I know one little breath will make me choke. Placing my sweaty palms on the table, I stand up. “Please excuse me for a moment, gentlemen.”

I walk away without explanation.

I float across the floor of the dining room. The voices surrounding me flutter away so that I don’t hear anything but a dull buzz of noise. Too many thoughts rush through my mind and I find myself wanting to run. The muscles in my legs twitch, like I’m going to die if I don’t. Nerves won’t release their hold on me. I feel Gabe’s eyes on my back as I walk toward the ladies room, the only place that no one will follow. I need a plan. I need to fix this unfixable mess.

Maybe I should just crawl out the bathroom window. I touch my hand to my forehead and breathe in. Awh, superfuck. What do I do? I can’t stay here and wait for the other shoe to drop. I can’t sit there and watch. The magnitude of this is unimaginable. Everything hinges on tonight.

I can’t think.

I reach the ladies room and walk inside. There is no one else here. The room is dark and swankly decorated. It has a powder room feel with little Victorian looking tuffets to sit on and your apply make-up. I step around the fluffy seat and stand in front of the sink. Placing my hands on the cold granite counter, I look up into the mirror and shiver.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get out of this. Squeezing my eyes together hard, I blink. Why can’t I think? In the moments that really matter, my brain seems to vacate my body, and I’m stuck with this surreal feeling like life is moving in slow motion. I inhale, closing my eyes as I do it. I have to calm down. I have to get a grip on this, either that or run like hell.

When I open my eyes I nearly jump out of my skin. I lift my chin and look up into the mirror expecting to see only my face, but someone else is there—Sean. I never even heard him come in. I grab my heart like it’s going to explode.

I want to scream at him. I’m unraveling. I feel the strands popping one by one. Fury rises to the surface and I can’t hold it back. Too much has happened between us, too many good things and too many bad things. I round on him. Sean is two steps behind me. I practically jump on him and slam my fists into his chest. I hate my reaction, but I can’t stop it.

I speak with a voice that isn’t mine. It hisses from between my teeth with too much venom, too much hatred. “Why can’t you leave me alone? You’re ruining my life, you sick bastard! You think this is funny? You think that you can just have me and play with my mind, like I don’t fucking matter? Well, it’s not going to happen—not again you arrogant prick—so walk away and leave me the hell alone.”

My fingers are stretched wide as rage races through my veins. I shove Sean again, but he barely moves. It feels like my heart’s become a black hole and my entire body is being crushed and sucked into the massive force. My chest aches, it literally aches to have him so close.

Instead of leaving, Sean grabs my wrists so I stop hitting him. Fury makes my body tremble. It’s like the hissy fit he just witnessed was the smoke before the real eruption. Sean’s cool eyes sweep over my face. His grip on my arms loosens. I pull back, but my muscles won’t stop twitching.

Sean’s lips part like he’s going to say something, but the words won’t leave his mouth. He breathes strangely, like I punched him in the gut and he looks at me with those liquid blue eyes. Somehow he makes me feel sorry for defending myself, for telling him off.

Screw this. I am not so fucked up that I’m going to feel sorry for this. I turn to leave and walk quickly for the door. Without looking back, I say over my shoulder, “Do whatever the hell you want. You’re good at that.” My hand is on the cold doorknob when he speaks.

“Avery, I have no intention of telling him anything. I simply meant to—”

I stop. My fingers practically strangle the doorknob. I cut him off, not giving him a chance to fully state anything. “I don’t care.”

“I need to tell you something, but every time I approach you—”

“I still don’t care,” I say back. The words come from within the hollowness. I feel them rattle through me before they spill out of my mouth. “I don’t care about anything you have to say and I don’t care about you. I hate you. I hate what you’ve done to me.” My eyes narrow to slits and I turn around.

Suddenly, I’m in his face saying the things I wish I’d said the night he sent me away. “I hate that you’re so damn callous. I gave you my heart and you fucking returned me. Nothing you can say will ever fix that. I have no interest in what makes you tick, or why you followed me in here. You can go to hell.”

Sean reaches into his lapel and pulls out an envelope. It’s thick, like it has lots of paper inside. “This isn’t mine.”

I stare at him and his envelope of cash. I hope he knows every thought that races through my mind. I hope he knows how much he hurt me and how much I wish I’d never met him. I feel my lips move and words start to pour out. “Oh, it’s yours all right. Don’t you know how returns work? You get your money back. You got me for free—”

“This isn’t about the money, but you’re wrong and need to take it. I—”

“You don’t get to have a say in anything I do. I’m not taking that back. It’s tainted. This is the end of this conversation. Go ahead and do whatever amuses you. I know you will.” I turn away sharply, but Sean manages to grab my wrist.

He pulls me back to him, hard, too hard. I smack into his chest and he holds onto me tightly. Sean steps forward and before I know it, he has me pressed against the wall. It seems like hours have passed since I walked into this room. How is it that no one else has come in? And if they come in now, it looks really bad.