I push the suitcase out of the way and walk into the living room. A uniformed man is rolling a cart inside. While he carefully places everything on the large dining room table, Steve takes a seat at the head.
“Sit. Sit.” He waves a hand, completely ignoring the nice man who is removing the silver domes from the plates. “I ordered you a burger, Ella.” He sighs when I don’t answer. “Fine, don’t eat it, then. But I ordered it in case you’d changed your mind.”
The server lifts a silver dome off my plate to reveal a huge burger on a bed of lettuce. I give him an awkward smile and say, “Thanks,” because he doesn’t deserve my rudeness. It’s useless, though, because he doesn’t look at me at all.
With a sigh of my own, I sit down. Dinah takes a chair on the opposite side of the table.
“This is nice,” Steve announces. He snaps a napkin and drapes it across his lap. “Oh hell. I forgot my drink over on the coffee table. Will you get that for me, Dinah?”
She rises immediately, grabs the glass, and brings it over to Steve.
He kisses her cheek. “Thank you, darling.”
“Of course.” She resettles herself in her chair.
I force my gaze to my plate so no one can see the astonishment. This is a completely different Dinah than the one I met before. Heck, it’s a different Dinah than the one who just summoned me to dinner.
I’ve only had two other encounters with her, and both of them were not good. She was confrontational at the will reading. And then, at Callum’s house, I caught her having sex with Gideon in the bathroom.
Tonight, Dinah is quiet, almost shy, and it’s like watching a coiled snake hiding under a big banana leaf.
Oblivious, Steve takes a sip. “It’s warm.”
There’s a long moment of silence. When I drag my eyes away from the table, I see Steve staring pointedly at Dinah.
She smiles thinly. “Let me get you some ice.”
“Thanks, dear.” He turns to me. “Would you like some water?”
The interplay between these two is so weird that I forget I’m supposed to be giving him the silent treatment. “Sure.”
Rather than pour it himself, he calls out toward the kitchen area. “Dinah, bring Ella a glass of water.” Then he begins cutting into his steak. “I spoke with the DA’s office this morning. We should be able to take possession of the apartment soon. That’ll be nice for all of us.”
I’m pretty sure it will be nice for none of us.
Dinah returns with two glasses—one full of ice, one full of water. She sets the water glass in front of me with enough force that some of the liquid splashes over the rim and soaks my sleeve.
“Oh, I’m sorry about that, Princess,” she says sweetly.
Steve frowns.
“No prob,” I mutter.
Steve drops a couple of ice cubes into his drink, swirls it around, and then takes a sip. Dinah has just picked up her fork when Steve makes a face. “Too watery,” he states.
She hesitates, her fingers growing white around the fork handle. I wonder if she’s going to stab Steve with it, but instead she sets it down in a slow, deliberate fashion. Pasting a smile on her face, she rises from the table for the third time and makes her way to the bar, where big bottles are lined up like little soldiers in a row.
At this rate, I might start drinking from them.
“Ella, I spoke with your headmaster today,” Steve tells me.
I tear my eyes away from Dinah’s stiff back. “Why would you do that?”
“I just wanted to check on your progress at Astor Park. Beringer informed me that you have no extracurricular activities.” He slants his head. “You mentioned you like dancing. Why not the school dance team?”
“I, ah, I was working at the time.” I don’t feel like getting into my feud with Jordan. It sounds stupid saying it out loud.
“Then perhaps the school newspaper?”
I try not to grimace. Writing articles sounds more painful than sitting here at dinner. Actually, I take that back. This dinner is so uncomfortable that I’d rather be sparring with Jordan Carrington, so the school newspaper would be a welcome distraction.
“What did you do as electives?” I counter. Maybe if I can get him to admit he was a slacker in high school, he’ll ease up a little.
“I played football, basketball, and baseball.”
Great. One of those.
But hadn’t Callum implied that Steve wasn’t interested in running a business and preferred just having fun? Why can’t he let me enjoy myself?
“Maybe I’ll try out for the, um…” I think frantically of some girl sport—“soccer team.”
Steve smiles encouragingly. “That would be good. We can talk to Beringer about it.”
Ugh. I guess I can try out for it, and when they see how terrible I am, they’ll kick me off the grounds and ask me to never return. It’s not a bad plan, actually.