When she settled, I put on some of the new jewelry he’d gotten me that I knew
would match nicely
When it was 5:30 p.m., I opened the door to be escorted back down to the dining
room, but when I got there, I froze in my tracks. Soft Christmas jazz played in the
background while the dining table stood not only decked out with several plates of
food, but it was also decorated with more Christmas trimmings and flickering tall
red candles, giving it a lovely, warm ambience. It was a feast fit for Whoville. And
standing at the head of it all was Darren, his hands resting on the top of his chair as
he smiled at me.
“Wow,” I said as I walked toward the table, my heels clicking behind me.
“Wow is right,” Darren agreed, but his eyes weren’t on the table; they were too
busy gazing up and down my body. I couldn’t help but notice his too. He was in a
black suit, white dress shirt, and a red tie that matched my dress almost exactly. I
instantly wondered where he’d gotten ready. Maybe he had a separate room
somewhere else. After a moment, he walked around to my chair and pulled it out
for me. “Have a seat,” he said. I didn’t argue and allowed him to push my chair in
for me.
What the fuck is going on?
“This is a lot of food for just two people,” I told Darren as he sat down in his own
seat.
“That’s because once we’re done, the rest will go to the guards.”
“Really?” I asked. I didn’t know he even gave a shit about them, especially if
they still worked on the holidays, but maybe he did?
“Of course. I may pay them very well for what they do, but that doesn’t mean I
don’t appreciate their loyalty. I try to reward them when I can.”
“Well, that’s … nice of you, I guess.”
Darren gave me a quick wink before we started our dinner. Everything was
fantastic. From the turkey to the vegetables and potatoes, salad, roast beef, and
cranberries, I’d had more than my fill. I even got to indulge in dessert, which
almost never happened. The conversation revolved mostly about Camaro and my
fun with her outside. I mentioned to Darren that she didn’t have a collar in her bag
of things, and he said he wanted me to pick it out myself, which again, threw me
off.
“You want me to pick it out myself?”
“Sure, why not? She’s your dog.”
The irony was closing in on me again. If he thought I was going to react to
choosing a collar for my dog like he’d chosen one for me, then he was mistaken. I
would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.
“How am I going to pick it out? Are you going to supply me with a bunch to
choose from?”
Darren shook his head. “No, I’m going to take you into town on New Year’s Eve
for you to pick one out yourself.”
I choked on my wine. He was taking me to town? In public? For fucking real??
“Are you serious?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes from bugging out of my head.
“If you can behave, yes,” he said, that dangerous look looming in his eyes, the
one that promised pain if I fucked up.
“No worries,” I assured him, trying to hide my smile as I took another sip of
wine.
A half-eaten slice of cherry pie sat on my plate, and I didn’t think I could eat
another bite. I’d had two full glasses of white wine and was about to finish my third
when I suddenly felt my vision sway. Weird, but maybe I was just excited?
I was finally going out into the world for once in the next few days. I’d see
people. I’d see buildings. I’d see everything. Holy. Shit. This meant he trusted me
enough to be in public with him … and I was sure there would be devastating
consequences should I fuck that up. But I wouldn’t. I’d make sure I had every
chance at gaining another opportunity of getting the fuck off Darren’s property.
I took another sip of my wine when I felt myself off balance again.
“What the hell?” I whispered under my breath, placing the glass down. I felt
light and airy and fucking giggly.
“Something wrong?” Darren asked me.
I covered my mouth in an attempt to hide my goofy ass smile. What the fuck?
Was I tipsy? Off three glasses of wine?
“No,” I said with a giggle. “I’m fine.”
“You’re drunk,” he accused, but there was nothing but amusement in his voice.
“No way. I only had three glasses of wine,” I rationalized.
“That wine is twenty percent, Jaden. Your tolerance is still for shit.”
“Shut up,” I told him with way more attitude than I’d meant to.
“What did you just say?”
Darren’s tone sent shivers
