Page 27 of Volatile Vice

Thank God McAllister does it.

It’s okay for a father to hold out a chair for his daughter.

For a thirty-four-year-old man who’s supposed to marry her once she’s legal?

Not so much.

It would just feel all…wrong.

Everything about this feels wrong.

Does Belinda even know that she’s supposed to marry me when she turns eighteen?

I could’ve asked Grandfather, but I try not to think about these things.

By the time Belinda is eighteen, I’m hoping my Grandfather will be dead and buried and this family legacy is burned to ashes.

Grandfather, McAllister, and I then take our seats. The butler—yes, McAllister has a butler, just like my grandfather—serves shepherd’s pie, Irish soda bread, and red wine from a decanter. From a separate decanter, he pours something that looks like apple juice into the wine glass next to Belinda’s plate.

This is just unreal.

Then, in what seems really out of place, McAllister takes Belinda’s hand. “Shall we say grace?”

Am I supposed to take Belinda’s hand?

God, please no.

But she grabs my hand, so what to do? I dart a glance toward McAllister, who takes my grandfather’s hand.

This is so very strange.

McAllister says a few words of gratitude for the meal, but I’m not listening. All I’m thinking about is how wrong this little girl’s hand feels in mine.

It feels like a child’s hand. Which of course is what it is.

When the prayer is over, Belinda releases my hand, but something feels…

I look down in my palm. Belinda has placed a piece of paper in it.

What’s going on?

I discreetly place it in my pocket. I look over at Belinda, hoping to meet her gaze to somehow tell her that yes, I got her message.

But she’s still not looking at me.

I won’t have a chance to look at the paper until we’re done with this godforsaken lunch.

“Dig in,” McAllister says. “Dena is an amazing cook.”

I draw a breath and place my cloth napkin across my lap, thinking again of the paper in my pocket.

I take a bite of shepherd’s pie and bring it to my mouth. Despite the fact that I’m not hungry at all, it is delicious. The whipped potatoes on top of the pie are creamy and flavorful, and the filling is savory and delicious.

I butter a piece of soda bread and bring that to my mouth next.

A little bland, but oddly hearty. I take a sip of water to get it down, and then I try the wine.

It’s good. A basic red table wine, Italian, I think. Not overly nuanced, but it pairs perfectly with the shepherd’s pie. I would’ve thought McAllister would pull out all the stops for this lunch, but he’s serving us basic red wine.