“Imagine my surprise.”
He’s watching me with careful eyes. I wish I could read him as easily as he seems to be able to read me.
But so far, I feel… good? At least, I think I do. For the most part, I feel like I’m doing a solid job keeping my nerves at bay. The clumsiness from earlier… well, that’s par for the course in OliviaLand, so it works.
Our conversation lulls for a moment while the waiters bring out the food. The first course is a tomato chili soup infused with a creamy garlic oil. Beside it, they place a fennel and crab salad garnished with lemon juice and thin slices of sweet orange. The smell alone is borderline erotic.
The servers bow and disappear back into the kitchen. Aleks folds his hands and looks at me. “Did you get the supplies I sent up?”
“I did,” I say, spooning some soup into my mouth. Holy shit, this is amazing. I school my face into a neutral expression. Give nothing away. Keep your guard up. “Thank you. I didn’t expect a gift.”
He smiles pleasantly. “Had to save my walls.”
“I would apologize,” I reply, “but you deserve it, and honestly, it’s an improvement. This place is decorated like a morgue. You do know that there are colors in the universe besides black and gray, right?”
He chuckles but makes no move to reply as he tastes the soup for himself. I’m over here struggling to control the orgasm in my mouth, but Aleks takes it all in completely stone-faced, like having Michelin-starred food at a spur-of-the-moment dinner is no big deal.
The crab is as delicious as the soup. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy every bite. Prisoners don’t normally eat this good.
But that thought brings nothing but guilt. I’m here, getting literally wined-and-dined. As for my family…
Where are they? What are they doing? Are they okay, safe, afraid?
I don’t have any of the answers.
“You okay?”
I blink. “Sorry?”
“You were just talking to yourself,” Aleks explains. “Muttering.”
I know he’s not lying. After Mia left for college, I’d talk to myself, pretending I was talking to her instead. Somehow, the habit stuck.
“Nope, I was not. You must have misheard.”
“You were. Sounded like a serious discussion.”
“Are you feeling alright?” I ask. “I think you’re starting to imagine things.”
He hums, a low, rumbly sound that reverberates through me. His eyes never leave my face. “As you wish. I’ll play along.”
He smiles again. Pleasant, beautiful, no chinks in his armor. This whole dinner feels almost… normal. Like a date.
Not that I have the most experience in that department. I meet his eyes and my stomach flutters. Damn you, butterflies.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask suddenly.
“Doing what?”
“This,” I say, gesturing to my now-empty bowl. “The fancy dinner, the amazing food, the… the… ‘full-bodied’ wine. Why go through all the trouble for a prisoner?”
“Because you’re not my prisoner anymore, remember?” he tells me. “You’re my wife.”
“Does that mean I can leave whenever I want?”
“No.”
“Case in point.”
He shakes his head. “You are not allowed to leave because your safety is my top priority. With the FBI sniffing around, I can’t exactly let my wife run around on her own, can I?”
I frown at the reasonable way he packages that little narrative. “The FBI are a threat to you, not me.”
“What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours,” he smiles. “What threatens me, threatens you. We’re one now, kiska. You’d do well to remember that.”
Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore. The waiters round the corner with the next course, but Aleks senses something and waves them away.
“You did promise me you would be cooperative,” he chides when we’re alone again.
“That depends on what I need to cooperate on,” I point out. “If you expect me to do anything illegal or—”
“Calm down,” he says. “Have you always had such an overactive imagination?”
“Actually, yes.”
He smiles. “I suppose you’d have to, living the life you do.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
“How many times do I have to tell you: I like my life. Liked it, at least.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure worms like the rocks they live under, too.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He chuckles. “I’m not all bad. Would an asshole let you call your family?”
I jerk upright. “What?”
He nods, pleased with my reaction. “I figure it’s been long enough. We’ve been married for a week now. I’m sure you’ll want to tell them just how happy you are. Brimming over with marital bliss.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” he says. “I just want to show you that I’m willing to give you certain concessions. So long as you do the same for me when the time comes.”
I have no idea what the hell that means, but I’m not about to pass up a chance to speak to my family. “When can I call them?”
“The phone line in your room has been cleared. You can use it tonight whenever you’re ready.”
“And this isn’t a trick?”
“Now, why would I do that?”
I don’t bother dignifying that with a response. “Guess I have to wait until the end of this dinner to make the call, huh?”
He looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. “It would be rude not to.”
“Great. Then bring the boys back in and let’s get this thing over with.”
Aleks snaps his fingers and, like magic, the army of servers reappears with our entrées.
When they slide the plate in front of me, I gawk down at a beautifully seared steak, buttery mashed potatoes, artfully charred broccolini, and a red wine jus that looks dangerously rich.
“You know, when most people say, ‘I could eat a whole cow,’ they don’t mean it literally,” I advise him. “This is an absurdly huge plate of food.”
He shrugs without looking up. “You’ll manage.”
We start eating, but I barely taste anything anymore. All I can think of is getting up to my room so that I can see if he’s made good on his promise and opened up my phone line.
I’m halfway through my steak when I notice Aleks staring at me. “What?”
He shakes his head. “Just thinking how docile you are. A braver soul would have dashed out of the meal altogether.”
I blush. “I didn’t think you were giving me the option.”
“We give ourselves options in this life, Olivia. Wait for someone else to give them to you and you’ll be waiting forever.”
I take a deep breath. The food that was so appetizing a moment ago is now repulsive. I want away from it, away from him, away from everything that keeps trying to make me into something I’m not.
“I… I’m going to go to my room now,” I say, pushing myself away from the table.