Chapter 8

It was a cold Tuesday evening, but the restaurant was pleasantly warm. Emily. Silky brown hair throwing off gold light, center parted, slicked down over the scalp, and clipped back with a pretty brooch. Lips too pink, and eyes too warm for someone who’d let me suffer for years under her son’s thumb. She sat down before me, her skin paler than I remembered. The deep purple dress stood out starkly against her complexion.
Oh, no fake tan today.
“The ring’s nice,” I commented with a sip of my wine.
“His name’s George,” she said carelessly. “He has great taste, doesn’t he?”
“Acquired?” I said, boring my eyes into hers.
Her gaze was sharp. “You’ve gotten brave.”
“Better than being desperate.” I set my wine down gently. “Don’t want anything ruining your big day, I assume?”
“It’s been years, Lilian.”
She sounded so casual and dismissive.
“You think invalidating my pain will get you anywhere?”
The waiter arrived, asking for our orders. Emily didn’t have the chance to stare me down as she turned to him with a smile and ordered a Coho salmon with a side of creamed baby spinach.
“Just water for a drink, please,” she added.
He turned to me. “And for you?”
I smiled at him. “What do you suggest, André?”
“We have a new crab recipe with a side of grilled fruit.”
“I’ll have that, then. Thank you.”
He left with a polite smile, and I could only wish he’d rubbed off some positive energies onto Emily when she opened her mouth. “Quite popular with the men now, I see.”
“I respect the working class in general,” I shot back. “They’re really nice when you’re not trying to get them fired.”
“You really can’t let go of the past.” She sneered through gritted teeth.
“No.” I laughed. “You’re just worried about it catching up with you. Have you been hiding it well?”
“I don’t see why you can’t drop it and move on.”
“What’s hard about showing up to court, Emily?” I taunted. “Is it too far of a drive for you? I didn’t see you making the same excuse when it came to Mark’s accident.”
“Mark’s death does not concern you anymore,” she said in controlled softness.
“It’s so easy playing the victim for you, isn’t it?” I smiled mockingly. “Isn’t that why he joined the police force?”
Her eyes started tinting with red as a sheen came to them. “He did it to protect me.”
“To legally help you get away with abuse,” I pointed out.
“We didn’t know better!”
“And yet you keep your son’s confederate flag.”
She shut up as André set down the water, pouring her a glass.
“Your food will arrive in ten minutes,” he informed us and took his leave.
“I can’t stand another minute with you,” Emily muttered and reached out for her water.
“I had to put up with you guys beating me for years.” I scrunched my nose at her. “You’ll be fine.”
Her fingers tightened around her glass, the elaborate engagement ring throwing off speckles of light as she moved to drink. She set her glass down and I took the chance to curate some silence, reaching for my phone to scroll through. Emily’s gaze wandered around the place, studying the people around her.
I wondered how long she could keep it up. I watched her acrylic nails tap rhythmically against the table, the clinking of glasses and utensils on plates interrupted my aimless thoughts,
“You should probably look into getting married and actually living instead of being fixated on the past,” she advised, feigning whatever little kindness she could. “What Mark did was awful, but you can’t hold me responsible for his actions.”
“He’s dead,” I agreed, “but you’re in court for your own faults. Have you forgotten so easily? How you killed your own grandchild?”
“That was not my son’s child,” she snapped a little too loudly.
The restaurant wasn’t too crowded, but it did grab some people’s attention nearby. She cleared her throat lightly, but I sat without a care in the world, elbow on the table and chin resting on my palm with my eyes trained on her steadily. She wasn’t as scary as I believed she was all those years ago. She couldn’t hurt me anymore. Mark was dead, and nothing she pulled could make me give up on the case.
André finally arrived with our food.
“Why are you in New York, Emily?” I asked with a concealed smirk. “Just for me?”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously on me. “I have important people to visit.”
“Mark’s father is very important.” I nodded importantly and dug into my food. “Is he invited to the wedding?”
The shock on her face was priceless. She was an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t do my research.
“How dare you—” she hissed but I held a hand up, cutting her off.
“No, it’s all right. I understand you needed his emotional support after the funeral. I just didn’t think sex came with it. Did my pregnancy remind you of your own guilt, Emily?”
“You shut your vile mouth!”
“But he wasn’t even Mark’s real father, though.” I shook my head. “What a shame it would be if he found out.”
“And you have evidence?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I smirked.
I saw Emily’s hand reach for her half-full glass of water, ready to throw it at me.
“Oh!” Her screech made me jump as André tripped beside her, spilling an opened bottle of wine onto her. “Jesus!”
Emily’s face was absolutely priceless and poor André apologized profusely, although he didn’t appear very sorry. He winked at me discreetly as he reached out for tissues and dabbed at the tablecloth. I smacked a hand over my mouth before I could laugh. There was an abrupt jerk at my bicep, and I was promptly pulled out of the restaurant. I caught myself before I could yell out, seeing the hand attached as none other than Cristo Alexakis-Caron himself as we threaded through the tables and chairs.
My face was flaming as heat picked up in the rest of my body under his touch. “What in God’s name—”
“You can’t take God’s name; you’re Lilith,” he said pointedly as we passed through the restaurant gates.
I snatched my arm and smacked his hand. He only pouted, cradling his hand gently.
“How do you always end up wherever I am?” I demanded loudly.
“Hmm.” A thoughtful look came over his face. “What if it’s a sign from the universe?”
“Oh, come off it!” I grunted and fixed my rings. Quick footsteps neared us, and I turned around, sighing in relief at the sight of Marcus approaching.
“Lilia—I mean, Lilith. Sorry. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied. “What brings you here?”
“I was having dinner with my cousins and saw the whole fiasco. Here.”
He handed me my purse and phone, and I gave him a grateful look. “Thank you.”
“Small world, huh?” Cristo commented, and I just rolled my eyes.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Hey, I saved your ass!” He sounded a little upset. “I mean, André did, but I gave him the idea.”
Sighing, I rolled my eyes and turned to him. The look in his eyes made me feel guilty. I knew he was trying to conceal it, but I think my demeanor really was hurting him. It wasn’t like he knew why I was being so cold toward him. Hell, even I didn’t really know.
I glanced away toward the restaurant window, staring at a distraught and embarrassed Emily. She seemed so defeated and small.
It wouldn’t have been possible without him.
“Thank you, Cristo,” I said gently, giving him a small smile. “You really looked out for me today.”
He was taken aback a bit.
“Oh, uhh, sure yeah, it was nothing.” He grinned and I pinched him.
“You literally just—”
“Lilith,” Marcus sounded serious behind me, “you’ve had a long evening. Should I take you home?”
My gaze darted to him, and then to Cristo. The light was bouncing off his golden skin, bringing out the marvelous sculpt of his cheeks and jaw. His eyes were a deep silver like the coat of a wizened wolf, warm and safe. He stood expectantly, but his smile said otherwise. He was ready to leave me be if I wanted or go with me if I stayed by him.
To be honest, I had the weirdest urge to stick around him. But…
“You’re right,” I turned to Marcus, “I have a busy day tomorrow.” Hooking my arm around his elbow, I gave Cristo an apologetic look. He only smiled at me and bid us farewell, taking his leave. Marcus and I turned to walk away.
I did my best not to look back.
The Billionaire Matching Club Books 1-6
Detail
Share
Font Size
40
Bgcolor