Page 61 of Until He Confesses

I smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you can make it for me again? I've missed it,” she said.

I was surprised at this.

“It's just a normal sandwich,” I said.

“Is it?” her voice slightly rose. “Because for some reason, no sandwich after that has tasted like it.”

“Maybe it's because of the seasoning I put in the eggs,” I said.

She gave me a look that I was sure my heart understood, but my head refused to process.

Anyway, with the menu decided, we got to work putting our plates together and including the ham and lettuce, then we brought them out to the deck, and I grabbed a bottle of red wine.

“Feel like drinking after midnight?” I asked as I opened the bottle, and she picked up her glass and held it out.

“That's what vacations are for,” she half-sang but was so surprised at how loud she sounded that her hand went over her lips to cover it.

Amused, I filled up her glass and mine, and we took our seats beside each other. Close enough to feel each other's warmth but not necessarily touching.

“So...” she said as she set her glass down and began to eat. “Tell me some tales about being rich. Places you've gone, people you've met, parties you've attended.”

Once again, she amused me, so I glanced at her.

“Have you been to any of those Hollywood award shows?”

I shook my head.

“No, I have not.”

“But you do get invitations, right?” she asked.

“I think I do,” I replied. “My assistant had mentioned it to me a few times in the past, but I always declined. I have no business being there. I'm a businessman with more than enough on my plate at every given moment.”

“Mm,” she nodded. “How predictable.”

I laughed, and we both turned to look at each other again.

This time around our gazes lingered and seeing that she was in a good mood I decided to bring it up. It probably wasn’t the best course of the night but more than anything else I needed to understand what had so mercilessly robbed me of her.

“What is it?” she asked at my stare.

I reconsidered what I was about to say but eventually went ahead.

“Why exactly are you so convinced that I cheated on you?” I asked.

At my words, all the color slowly drained from her face.

She continued eating, but at a greater pace and I could tell that she was gearing herself up to leave.

“Tell me, Callie,” I told her. “You can’t accuse me so boldly without having substantial evidence.”

She was amused.

“I have substantial evidence.”