Chapter 27
People filtered into the gallery one by one since we opened. I’d barely had time to ask Tess about coming to dinner tonight. After helping a woman who took over an hour deciding between two paintings, I stepped into the back where Tess was sitting at her desk going over some invoices.
“Do you have plans tonight?” I asked.
She looked up at me. “No. Why?”
“Good.” I smiled. “You’re coming to my house for dinner, and you’re going to meet Alex.”
“Yay.” She grinned. “I’ll bring the dessert.”
“Sounds good. Is seven o’clock good?” I asked.
“Perfect. I can’t wait to meet that man of yours.”
On the way home, I stopped at the store to pick up what I needed for dinner.
My mind wouldn’t calm itself over the events of last night.
When I arrived home, I set the bags on the island and began unpacking them.
Grabbing the chef’s knife from the wooden block, I stared at it.
The compulsion was the strongest it had ever been.
But I needed to control myself for a while longer.
The aroma of breaded chicken and homemade pasta sauce filled the kitchen.
Tess had once told me that Chicken Parmesan was one of her favorite dishes and she could eat it every day.
I made the salad, chopping the lettuce with the very knife that would soon become another murder weapon.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I walked over and unlocked the front door for Alex.
I still never made him an extra key, and I was grateful I hadn’t.
I took down three wine glasses and poured some wine into them. The front door opened and Alex walked into the kitchen with a smile.
“My God. It smells delicious in here.” He kissed me, and I cringed.
“Thank you.” I smiled. “Tess should be here any minute.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.
“No. I’ve got it handled.”
“How was work today?” he asked, sitting at the table.
“Fine.” I didn’t ask about his day because I didn’t care. What we had was gone now because of him. And nothing would give me more pleasure than making him pay for his sins. All I needed was to be patient.
“Just fine?”
“Yeah.” I glanced at him. The doorbell rang. “I’ll answer it.” I walked out of the kitchen.
“I brought tiramisu.” Tess grinned, holding up a white box.
“My favorite.” I smiled. “Come on in.”
She stepped inside and looked around. “Oh, that painting.” She smirked. “Front and center where anyone who walks into the house can see it.”
“Right? That’s my feeling too.” Alex walked into the living room. “You must be Tess. I’m Alex. Dahlia has told me so much about you.”
“Don’t listen to the bad stuff.” She winked.
“All good. All good.” He laughed.
“Dinner is ready,” I said.
“Oh my, Dahlia. It smells delicious in here.” Tess stepped into the kitchen. “Is that chicken parm I smell?”
“It is.” I grinned.
“You are a fabulous host.” She sat at the table and placed the napkin in her lap.
I set the plates of food on the table and took a seat next to Alex. It wasn’t my first choice, but if I didn’t, he’d know something was up.
“So, Alex. I’ve always wondered. What’s it really like teaching literature? It sounds romantic until I picture a room full of college students staring at their phones.”
“That definitely happens.” He chuckled.
“I knew it,” Tess smirked, pointing her fork at him.
“But you’d be surprised. Every semester I get a handful of students who genuinely love the books. They don’t just read them. They dissect them. And that’s the most rewarding part of teaching.”
“I think I would have liked your class.” She smiled.
“Maybe.” He smiled back. “Until I assign Crime and Punishment.”
“Oh, God. No. I’m out.” She laughed.
“See.” Alex chuckled. “Everyone loves literature until they have to read four hundred pages of guilt and misery. How about you? Why did you become a gallery owner?”
“Easy. I love art. But it goes deeper than just love. When I was growing up, my parents fought constantly. Almost every night, there was an argument happening. The only place I ever felt at peace was at an art museum.”
“Interesting. You’d go by yourself?” he asked.
“Yes. My mom would drop me off for a few hours while she ran errands. I’d wander through the galleries and just breathe. No one was arguing. No one expected anything from me, and it was quiet.”
“I can understand that.” I smiled.
We finished dinner and took our wine into the living room.
“Honestly, Dahlia. I have no idea how you can sit here with that painting staring at you,” Tess said. “If that were in my home, I’d feel like I was being constantly watched.”
“It’s really no different than people if you think about it. We’re always being watched by someone.”
“How do you mean?” She tipped her glass to her lips. “By whom?”
“People,” I said. “How many times have you watched two people having dinner and wondered if they were on a first date?”
She bobbed her head back and forth. “Okay. Guilty.” She smiled.
“Or noticed a woman crying walking down the street. Or the customers who walk into the gallery. We’re constantly observing each other. Most of the time, we don’t even realize we’re doing it.”
“You’re right.” Alex flashed me a smile. “Human beings are naturally curious.”
“We spend so much time worrying about who’s watching us, that we forget we’re usually watching someone else.”
“Fair enough.” Tess nodded. “I get your point. But I still think that painting is creepy.”
I laughed. “Fair enough.”
Tess finished the last of her wine. “It’s getting late.
I should head home.” She stood from the couch.
“Dahlia, dinner was exceptional. I had a really great time. Thank you for inviting me over.” She hugged me.
She turned to Alex and hugged him. “It was great to finally meet you, Alex. You two are so adorable together. A perfect match.” She grinned.
Pity, he won’t be around much longer.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dahlia.”
“Bye, Tess. Drive safe.” I shut the door.
“Wow. She’s great,” Alex said.
Do you want to fuck her too?
“Yeah. She is.”
He walked over, wrapped his arms around me, and I froze.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m just tired and have a bit of a headache. I think it’s time you head home.”
His brows furrowed. “I planned on staying the night.”
“Not tonight.” I walked into the kitchen.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You seem angry at me or something.”
I gripped the edge of the sink. He hadn’t seen me angry yet.
“Why would I be angry at you? Did you do something to warrant that?” I asked.
“No. But you seem off today.”
“It’s the headache I have. I just need to go to bed and sleep it off.”
“Okay.” He wrapped his arms around me from behind and pressed his lips against the back of my head. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Take something for that headache.”
“I will.”
I walked him to the door.
“Sweet dreams, my love.” He placed his thumb on my chin. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Alex.”