Page 21 of It Starts With A No

He pushed his chair back and stood when she moved back to the kitchen. “What else do you need to do?”

“Sit. I’m just getting the silverware.”

He did, then leaned forward, taking another whiff of the turkey in red sauce.

“Turkey with red wine sauce.” She handed him a knife and fork. “It will be the best thing you’ve ever eaten.”

“I’ve eaten a lot of good food.” Stuffed himself—unwillingly—to the brink and over.

Pushing those thoughts out of his head, he cut a slice of turkey for Clary before taking one for himself.

She didn’t eat her slice, though. She propped her elbow on the dining table, then leaned her chin on her fist and waited. “Go on. Try it.”

He did. The sweetness and tartness of the wine blended so well into the velvety sauce, and he almost moaned at how everything melted in his mouth. Almost.

Clary grinned. “Now, tell me. Would you waste this?” She cut a bite of turkey and put it in her mouth, smirking the entire time.

“Did you make this?”

“Grandma Moretti made it.”

“Then why are you so proud?”

“Because Grandma Moretti taught me everything she knew.”

“That still doesn’t mean you could actually replicate it.”

“Gosh. You’re really catching up with Elton.” She smiled, even as her bandaged hand struggled with the knife.

Seth sighed and took the plate from her. He sliced up the turkey into smaller pieces before putting it back in front of her.

She laughed once. “Thank you.” She stared at him as she chewed on the bite of turkey.

Seth said nothing else. He was too busy eating and wondering if he would look too greedy if he gobbled up the rest of the food in the container.

Clary pushed the glass container closer to him. “I didn’t tell Mr. E you were looking for him. I just told him I really needed to speak to him urgently. Should I have mentioned your name?”

He swallowed the food in his mouth and put down his fork. “Why are you helping me?”

She shrugged. “I’m just passing on the message. Whatever’s between you and Mr. E is between you and Mr. E.”

“Even if I’m blackmailing him?”

“Tamara said you and Mr. E seemed to be on friendly terms.”

“There’s no need to shout when someone’s at your mercy.”

Putting down her fork, she locked eyes with him. “I choose him.”

“I didn’t ask you to choose, but of course you would.”

“You didn’t ask, but the question was clear.” She pushed aside her empty plate and folded her forearms on the dining table. “Because of him, I got to go to the best school available. I never had to worry about the cost of uniforms or textbooks. I never had to worry if I’d have a roof over my head or if …” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

When their gazes met again, Seth could almost see the invisible line between them. They might be sitting next to each other at the table, but they were two people whose lives were never meant to cross.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You can still finish the turkey, and we don’t have to talk until the detectives get here. I’ll be civil if you will.”

He tipped his head to the side. “And if I won’t?” He would, of course. If there was anything Holly Eolenfeld had drilled into him and his brothers—well, most of his brothers—it was manners. But he was interested to hear her reply, because her replies were never what he expected.

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