Page 52 of Golden Burn

Dinner is taking place on a table set for four on a rounded wooden platform hanging over the Luangwa River, the perimeter dotted withscented candles and flickering oil lamps. The sun is still setting, bathing everything in a peachy hue, strengthening the intimate ambiance and setting my pulse on fire.

Dom and Ford are already waiting for us to arrive. They’re standing on the platform, looking out over the river, a wine in Dom’s hand and a beer in Ford’s. The former is wearing a white button-up shirt and cream pants ensemble, while the latter is in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. They make a really beautiful couple. Both strong in their own right, both secretive until you peel back a layer or two. I don’t know how I didn’t see their connection earlier. They’re never not near each other. Ford is always looking when Dom doesn’t notice. Dom is always smiling when Ford looks away.

When they hear the sound of my stiletto heel, they turn together and break out into matching smiles. Again, I don’t understand why I deserve such a lovely greeting, but it’s nice to see it and even nicer to accept it.

“Well, hello there,” Ford purrs as he takes my hand and steers me toward the table. Odin remains close, his body a wall of heat at my back. He must make a face or something because Ford smirks. “Down, boy. I’m just doing what any gentleman would do.”

Each of us take a seat. Odin to my left, Ford to my right, and Dom opposite me. The table is decorated with glass cylinders with tiny tea lights dancing inside them, dried flower petals from local foliage and a bottle of red wine. Dom pours me one as Omandi greets us.

“Welcome, my friends. I hope you are all well and hungry.” Omandi’s energy is so joyful I can’t help but eagerly nod. “We have some traditional Zambian food for you to enjoy.”

“The dessert is my favorite,” Martise calls as she descends the wooden runway that leads to the platform. She’s wearing a long floral dress, hoopearrings and red stained lips. Tall and graceful, she reminds me of a gazelle. She winks when she sees me, and I melt inside.

Omandi brings out our dinners with Martise’s help. As she sets them down, she explains the delicacies. “Braised beef with aubergine, sweet potato andnsima.”

“It looks delicious,” Ford says, picking up his knife and fork, ready to devour the meal.

“Where is everyone?” I ask Martise, noticing the lack of activity besides the few employees.

“They are being entertained at another lodge for the night. Quite happily, I might add.”

“Zikomo,” I say as she places a napkin on my lap. As well this particular dish, a basket of bread and butter is placed on the table and a new round of wine poured.

I dig in, my mouth salivating at the first taste.

Odin is quiet during the meal, but Dom and Ford make up for it with their casual bickering. Ford seems relaxed, but now and then, I notice him scan the distance, his hand reaching for his phone in his pocket.

The whole thing is surreal. Like I’ve stepped through a doorway into another realm, one where my stresses have been set aside for my desires. One that allows me a chance to breathe and be present and absorb my movements in the world around me.

I’m smiling, too. Laughing. It comes freely and without doubt. Nothing has ever felt more natural.

“Etta, what’s your go to card game?” Ford asks.

I shrug, sipping my wine. “Um. I have no idea.”

“Come on, everyone has a game that they know how to play.”

“Okay. Probably Presidents and Assholes.”

Dom chokes on his drink. “Pardon?”

“It’s a quick and easy game. Whoever can get rid of their cards first is the President and whoever is last becomes the Asshole.”

“We’re playing. Omandi!” Ford asks Omandi for a stack of cards, and while he’s gone, I try to explain the game as simply as I can. Dom watches me intently, while Ford is watching him and trying not to laugh. I can’t see Odin. I refuse to look at him, not when the memory of his hands on me is still so fresh in my mind.

“Okay, okay. What’s your advice?” Ford asks, shuffling the new deck of cards in his large hands.

“Get rid of the lower cards first. Keep a straight face.”

Ford deals the entire deck between the four of us and we spend a few minutes getting all our cards in order. Normally, it takes a few rounds to get the gist of the game, but these three men take no time at all and are in need of no further instruction.

Halfway through the first round, Ford and I are down to two cards each. I’m hoping he has a low card so that I can beat him. If I come out as the President in the first round, I’ll never let them hear the end of it.

My hope dissipates when Odin places down a pair of cards that beat us all.

“Why did you do that?” I exclaim. “Why would you hold on to them for so long?”

Odin’s normally cold expression is amused. “I like seeing you sweat.”

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