16. Claire
I stick to the bottle of prosecco that I opened on my own as Elaine pours everyone glasses of wine, and I make it a point not to touch the water pitcher she places in the center of the table either. I will hydrate after dinner, when everyone is gone, and I can be sure that I’m not having something slipped into my drink. As for the food, I only take a small amount of each thing, looking all around to take note of whether Remy and Elaine are eating, what’s on their plates. Not even a small part of me thinks that either of them would poison Rhea, so when she samples everything and then reaches for seconds, I feel a small measure of relief. But I couldn’t eat a lot even if I wanted to. I’m full of fire, purpose, anger.
Its well contained. Like a pot that’s bubbled over and been reduced to a simmer, my nervous energy is just rippling the surface, enough to keep me alive but not enough to show on my face. I hate Wes for what he did to me, what he was going to do, how stupid he made me feel.
I just refuse to let it show.
“So,” Rhea says, leaning across the table toward Wes. She’s a few glasses of wine deep, and the red that she spilled across the tabletop five minutes ago is also spilling across her cheeks. It’s weird… with her complexion, I don’t notice her blush very often. In fact, I’m not sure she ever has blushed in front of me, given that nothing seems to embarrass her.
I notice I’ve been watching her a second too long when I glance up and my gaze collides with Remy’s, sending a shockwave through me. I suppress the shudder that wants to lace my spine, sinking my teeth into my lip to distract from the other things he inspires with a single look.
“How long are you here for?”
I’d like to know the answer to that as well. I’d like to know what Remy is planning to do with the waste of air sitting across the table from me, his lips quirked in an insufferable smirk as his bright eyes glance over me. “Indefinitely.” He says.
It’s not much of an answer, but it’s enough for Rhea. “Perfect! She claps her hands together like that’s just settled something, startling Dimitri, who looks up from his plate to see what the commotion is. I see his arm move, his hand drifting to his waist, and though it’s obscured by the table, I can tell he’s reaching for a gun just in case he needs to be ready.
It seems ridiculous to have a man who’s easily startled be in charge of anything such as ensuring Wes doesn’t escape, but I don’t know anything about Dimitri. For all I know, he’s just nervous to be promoted given Jovich’s death. For all I know, he was working with Jovich and he’s trying to finish what his mentor started. Maybe he’s the one who’s been poisoning me… he clearly clings to the shadows like he’s made of them. It probably wouldn’t be too difficult for him to slip past Elaine and sprinkle a bit of arsenic in my water.
Except, I wasn’t poisoned with arsenic. It was methanol. Formaldehyde. Someone tried to embalm me alive.
I almost laugh at the absurdity that is my life.
I feel like I’ve been fighting the tide for as long as I can remember, swimming against the surf. Found a family that you enjoy being a part of? Can’t have that, we have to rip her away. Made a friend after starting school later than everyone else? Time to move and find a new school. You see the light of adulthood just around the corner and dare to hope? Enjoy this last placement with a vile waste of human space.
Living with Rhea, I’d learned to stop fighting the current and just float. It was stupid to think that I could float forever. Maybe I need to stop trying to swim against the waves that are always stronger than me, stop floating aimlessly, and start learning to surf the waves instead.
My skin tingles with the sensation of being watched. It snaps me quickly back to reality, though I’ve missed a large part of whatever conversation just transpired. It’s not Remy or Wes who is sending the prickling over my flesh, though I do notice they’re both looking at me.
“Hmm?” I murmur, refusing to admit that I zoned out and missed something.
“Where do you go, Claire?” Rhea laughs. “Cause you may be sitting here looking all fierce as fuck in that dress, but I can tell you’re spacing.”
“You’re right.” I laugh. “Sorry, I just started thinking about how when we get home, I may take up a new hobby.”
“Oh?” I’ve piqued her interest. “And what hobby is that?”
“Surfing.” I lift the bottle of prosecco to my lips and let the bubbles explode against my tongue. When I set it back on the table, I see that Rhea is staring at me in shock. “You know how much I love the water.”
“That’s so random.” She shakes her head. “But you should do it. I don’t know if the surf is good, or whatever the kids say, but Laguna Beach is the perfect road trip distance.”
I didn’t even realize Elaine had left the table until she sets a fresh glass next to me, which I ignore, and then refills a few of the wine glasses scattered around the table. Michael refuses her politely while Dimitri takes it but then sets it aside immediately.
Elaine doesn’t offer Remy one, and I don’t peg him as a wine drinker, but he stands and takes the one that his bodyguards or employees discarded.
I’m enamored, watching him lift it to his lips and take a perfunctory sip, his tanned arms thick and strong against his rolled-up sleeves. I want to feel those arms wrap around me, feel his warmth. When he sets the glass down again, his eyes find mine. “Start now.”
I’m not sure if he thinks I really have any interest in surfing or if he is somehow in my head, knowing what I’m thinking. But it doesn’t matter, because when Rhea asks, “Start what?”, he grins.
“Start surfing now. I can teach you.”