Page 36 of Fire Fight

“I d-didn’t know,” I stammer, my head thumping worse every second. “I’m sorry. Of course, I’ll check with her immediately in the future.” He still appears angry, and I add, “I’ll pay to replace it,” not having the slightest idea how I’d manage that.

His posture softens, and he pulls me into a one-armed hug, the usual calm smile back in place. “That’s okay, you don’t need to do that. I’m sorry for yelling but I can’t stand waste. It infuriates me when perfectly good items are ruined because of a moment’s laziness.”

When he lets go, he frowns again, this time with concern.

“Is someone picking on you at school? If you’re being bullied, I can take the day off work next week and come into the office to discuss it with the headmaster.”

“Oh, um… No, it was just a bump. Some kids fooling around too close to the waste bins.”

“Okay.” His feet angle towards the kitchen, then he pauses. “You know you can always come to me if you’re having trouble. Just because I enjoy work doesn’t mean I won’t make time for you or your mother. I’ll drop anything in an instant if you need me.”

The bombardment of concern after the viciousness of a few seconds before leaves me reeling. “Thank you, but I’m not in trouble.” I give him a wide smile. “I haven’t been there nearly long enough for that.”

He laughs, putting a hand on my arm to shake me, then strides back to his place at the table, losing himself in his tablet, scrolling through the online papers.

I tug down my sleeves, covering the reddening mark, and go back to my seat. Even with my head lowered, I can feel Drake’s eyes bore into the top of my skull.

DRAKE

When we enter the restaurant, Raelene reminds me of a bird,head darting in all directions as she takes notice of every detail. She exclaims over the artwork, the plants, the solid rimu tables that would never dare be unstable enough to require a coaster underneath their leg.

Even the overhead lighting gets an enthusiastic mention.

It’s not until I see the same hesitant curiosity on Cadence’s face that I understand it’s not just this place. They probably haven’t been toanyfine-dining restaurant, and I don’t know why the idea takes me by surprise.

Until Arnold brought me home, my only sit-down meal had been a local McDonalds for a treat.

I rub my abdomen as my muscles pull tight.

This could have been genuine. A nice evening out to celebrate their arrival. I could have shared their enthusiasm, taken pride in their pleasure instead of using it as a fuck-you to Hudson. A roadblock to Cadence.

My eyes fix to my water glass as the waiter takes our drink orders, leaving us with leather bound menus, most meal options in the triple digit range. The drink prices are so extravagant they make me laugh.

“Why is there so much cutlery?” Cadence whispers, face pinching with worry. She seems cowed by the decadence. Shoulders hunching when a waiter walks behind her. Picking at her nails.

“They’ll take away what you don’t need.” Her expression doesn’t alter, and my attitude thaws.

“You work your way from the outside to the inside,” I explain, tapping my way across the gleaming silver. “But if you’re concerned, just follow my lead when the food arrives.”

She wrinkles her nose, and I lean closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear. “And if we’re wrong, it doesn’t matter. We’re the ones paying them to be here. The staff have to be polite.”

A light laugh greets my statement, and she risks a glance around the other tables.

It’s weird to see her reticent when what I remember best of her younger self is the boldness. Always ready to climb through a gap in the fence first if there was the temptation of something fun on the other side. Playing games as rough and tumble as any boy on the field.

Never minding dirt or muck or the panting heat of physical exertion.

Just like a boy only better, decoding moods and adjusting her emotional responses and suggestions on the fly.

I used to love prodding her into telling a lie, enjoying how colour spread from her chest to her neck, creeping with silent stealth across her cheeks.

She never got a handle on the art of deception.

It’s refreshing to interact with someone who couldn’t be insincere if she tried.

The waiter leans across, using a long, narrow lighter on the candles. Cadence jerks back in her chair, hands fisting in her lap, then twisting the heavy napkin into a rope.

Arnold frowns and I put a hand on her leg to comfort her without thinking. A reassurance that she throws off, abruptly standing. “I need the bathroom.”

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