Chapter 8 Robin #2
THE dining room lights are dim, causing shadows to dance like demonic shapes across the walls as we all crowd the long table. Everyone has filtered in from outside, so Maggie closes the double doors to the conservatory and unties the cord from the gosmere drape to let them fall loose.
The decorating company has done an amazing job in transforming the entire room into the embodiment of The Great Gatsby.
Everything is shimmery and gold, dozens upon dozens of potted flowers are scattered on every surface.
Helium gold balloons are discarded upon the ceiling, their twirling strings dangling down like streamers.
A giant center piece of feathers and more flowers sits in the middle of the table, whilst strings of pearls trail the length.
Plates, wine glasses and cutlery are placed with each chair as a formal dinner would be set.
My eyes fall upon red name cards placed around the table, which I know was Maggie's doing when I saw her earlier. Corbin might be tonight’s host in the loosest of terms, but I know he had no hand in helping anyone set up.
I follow as everyone starts to find their seats, running my fingers along the crisp white table cloth as I go.
I’m sitting precisely in the middle of the table.
Lil and Merle are both taking their seats on the opposite side, to my right, down by the head where the seat is currently empty, no doubt for our hostile host. Merle frowns as he finds his card and looks next to me where Phin’s name card sits, the space between them like a hedge, with all the table decor in their way.
Directly opposite me, Bran sits down next to him, ruffling his hair.
I’ll never find the differences in both brothers not staggeringly contrasting.
Mavis and then Jay accompany him, the latter moving the chair for her to sit, finishing the seating plan on their side of the table.
Mavis blushes, trying to cover it up with a sip of her cocktail, her eyes also going to the empty seat.
Wren finds his name card and scoffs, picking it up as he strides to the empty seat next to me and sits in one fluid motion.
He picks up Cardinal’s card and throws it down the table to where he should be sitting, popping his own next to mine.
I don’t miss the way he smiles to himself, before his head snaps to my best friend.
“Who’s trying to keep me from my wife?” He says loud enough for the entire table to hear.
Looking down at the space between our chairs, he frowns and curls his tattooed fingers under my seat, pulling it closer to him like I weigh nothing.
I’m momentarily stunned by his possessive action and a wild cackle escapes someone down the table.
Lily clears her throat and I look away from him, using the excuse of taking off his blazer, and I quickly cover the sheer material on my chest with my long waves.
I’ll have to remember to not move my hair or risk flashing everyone opposite me, but the lighting in here is dim.
Phin told me earlier he knew I’d look beautiful in the gown, but I’d repress my annoyance because I knew he was unaware of his brother's motives. To him it was just a gorgeous dress, to me it showed all my insecurities. It was so far out of my comfort zone and honestly, if it wasn’t for Wren saving the day with his jacket, I don’t think I would have come back downstairs after the small panic attack that had ensued on the stairs.
Lily is still staring at where we both sit, which is starting to make me feel itchy.
I raise my eyebrow at her questioningly, but she just takes a sip of her champagne and starts to talk to Merle beside her.
We’ve spent so little time with each other today, but the displeased looks she keeps shooting me has my stomach turning nervous.
“Want to get a little payback?” Wren whispers, goosebumps covering my flesh. He chuckles low and I'm sure he knows exactly what he's doing to me.
Fiddling with the silverware in front of me, I don't notice we've naturally leant into each other again, until I feel the hair around my face touch his cheek. I should tell him no, stop this madness, but instead I ask, “What do you have in mind?”
“Play along.” His large hand squeezes my knee under the table and I think it's now that I realise I don't stand a chance. Long legs spread wider until his thigh is pressed against mine, his right arm snaking behind me to rest along my chair. I want to joke about taking our characters too far, but this protective cocoon he’s created fills me with a sense of safety. I forget about the clingy dress, the belittling words I’ve ignored today or the overwhelming dread of where this evening is going to go.
My brain is empty and calm, which I haven't felt in such a long time.
The conversations going on around us are a light buzz, as both Cardinal and Aya enter through the conservatory double doors and are momentarily attacked by the gossamer drapes.
She huffs and pushes at the curtain, blowing strands of straight hair from her face like she walked through a cobweb.
I can’t help but laugh, which dies as Willow follows after them into the room.
The empty seat next to Wren dawns on me as she slides into it, trailing her long nails across his arm.
I marvel at her delusion, because despite me witnessing him turning her down twice today, she’s determined to win his affection.
“Fancy that Wrenny, we’re next to each other.
” Stiffly he moves his arm from under her trailing fingers, not biting like she expected.
He shifts closer to me if that was even possible, with a look that tells me he's not indifferent to climbing into my lap if need be. Her eyes drag along where our bodies are attached, the smile that grows on her lips unsettling. She sits forward and picks up her name placement, tapping a long nail against it before producing her own red card from god knows where. She’s wearing the tiniest black dress, the strings of beaded tassels falling on the start of her thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination.
She doesn’t care though, sitting forward to make her butt look peachy.
“Looks like I’m your mistress this evening.
” She says, twisting the red card between two fingers.
“This is a joke,” he pauses to read her character details, raising it so I can read it too.
“First he makes my character a wife beater, now I’m also an adulterer?
What a fucking twat.” He shakes his head, causing Phin to peer over me at him.
Obviously hearing the distress, his hand reaches out and takes the card.
Something is shared between them that I’m not privy to, which is weird, but they do have a friendship away from ours.
A bell tinkles so the table falls silent, Maggie wheeling in a long trolley, bowls of soup steaming on each shelf and a fragrant smell wafts with it. My mouth waters.
Corbin strolls in behind her from the house, but not taking his seat at the head of the table. He stands behind the chair, with one hand in his pocket and the other still holding the tumblr. His tie is slightly looser than earlier, his face at a loss of amusement.
I guess we’re starting the game before we start dinner.
“Let’s get the show on the road shall we,” he starts, shaking the ice in his glass and I don’t miss the way his lip curls at the sight of Wren’s arm around my chair.
“As I explained earlier, this weekend will be an endeavor to find clues that reveal all our secrets. Tonight, we have the start of our murder mystery.” He removes his hand from his pocket and wiggles his fingers in a mocking jester.
“You’ve all been naughty boys and girls, so it’s in your best interest to try and find all the secrets to keep your own.
If you find someone else’s secret, you have to share it with the group.
Find your own, keep it, well—a secret.” His smirk is nothing but cruel.
Lil lets out a breathy laugh and crosses a long leg over the other. “Brother, Darling. It’s quite untasteful to air other people's business.” She seems utterly unbothered, as he places his free hand on his chair and leans forward.
“Well dear Sister, if you have no dirty laundry to air, you’ll be golden then won’t you.”
Her hand becomes tight on her champagne glass for a brief second, her eyelashes fluttering before she becomes the poster child of collected. She just smiles back, as he finally sits down.
“You’ve all been given a character in the murder mystery, these are relevant to working out the secrets.
Tonight the first murder will happen, and the storyline will continue this weekend.
If anyone can figure out who did it, the game ends and I’ll remove the remaining secrets.
You can all end your weekend peacefully.
” He finishes, raising his whisky tumbler to which no one toasts.
I never gave it much thought, but what secret could he possibly have of mine?
Eerie silence floats in the air, no one wanting to be the first to speak.
Maggie breaks the trance by starting to place the bowls of soup around the table.
Our host doesn't lift a finger, but both Merle and Bran–who were clearly raised right–jump up to help her distribute the starters. They set down different rolls of bread, my own bowl of fragrant soup being placed before me. The scent hits and I see it’s chicken with rich veggies, herbs and I can smell a hint of spice.
Waiting for everyone to receive their food, I pick up the soup spoon and dish a heap into my mouth.
Flavours hit and the spice warms my throat, a groan escaping me.