Page 48 of Red Velvet

As always, the praise feels like a caress, reassuring and exciting at the same time. I’m oddly giddy when he puts his arm around me and leads me to the black limousine waiting for us.

"Hope you're hungry," Kade says after we've taken our seats and the driver starts the engine.

"You told me not to eat, so yes I am."

"Good girl."

"Where are we going?"

"A little place called D'Agate. Italian cuisine," he replies in a nonchalant tone, as if it’s no big deal.

"Little place?" I repeat, disbelief resonating in my voice. "Are you kidding me? It's impossible to get a table at D'Agate! They're booked for months and super exclusive."

Oh my God, I sound like such an idiot. And he seems to agree, unable to hide a smirk at my astonished ramblings.

"That's only partially true," he says. "It's true that they’re pretty exclusive, but they're not booked out for months. Not for everyone."

He ignores my incredulous lookand stares out the window while I’m tempted to repeat the same question I posed weeks ago.

Who are you?

I know he moves in different circles than I do, very different indeed. I know he’s part of the world my sister married into, a world that’s still foreign to me. But I’ve never really grasped the extent to which men like him could make the rest of the world bend to their will.

I'm not even surprised to hear the staff greet him by name when we get to the restaurant. He walks in like he owns the place, while I stalk behind him, clutching my purse against my body asI scan the scrupulous interior of the most extravagant restaurant I've ever been to.

It’s Venetian style, shining with barrel arches and surrounding pilaster and carvings. The plastered ceilings are almost two stories high, and the almost floor-length windows are framed with heavy burgundy curtains, streaked with golden threads.

We're led to a secluded table in an semi-private area, hidden behind another pointed archway.

I'm so drawn in by the sight of this place that I forget my ongoing predicament when I sit down. Of course he notices the pained grimace on my face, and the first thing he says when he takes his own seat opposite of me is "Still bruised, are you?"

I throw him a coy smile. "Yes, sir. You did a good job of it."

Our menus are delivered, accompanied by two glasses of champagne, carried by a young man who looks more like a butler than a waiter. I sit awkwardly stiff while he presents us with a list of specials that’s too exquisite for me to have any idea what he's talking about. I just nod along, as if mimicking Kade, who looks at the waiter with alert attention, giving the impression that—unlike me—he has a pretty good idea of what we’ve been presented with.

I'm grateful when he doesn't turn to me to ask what I want to eat. Instead, he just orders one of the appetizers mentioned at the beginning and sends the waiter away.

I feel like my nervous heartbeat is visible in my shaking hands as I raise my glass and clink it against his. I bring it to my lips as quickly as possible, seeking solace in the sweet alcohol. Once again I'm surprised at the rich taste of the golden liquid, wondering if I could ever get used to such luxuries.

Did Elene ever get used to it?

"I met your sister a couple days ago," Kade says, as if he sensed my thoughts wandering to her.

At the shocked expression on my face, he raises his hand. "Don't worry, I didn't say anything. It was just a business dinner with my brother and her husband at their house."

"Oh" is all I reply, unable to form coherent sentences.

"She didn't say anything either, but the entire evening I couldn't help wondering how much she knows about us." Kade raises an eyebrow. "Does she know about us?"

I shake my head. "I haven't really talked to her since the wedding."

Even I hear the sadness in my voice. Elene and I used to be kind of close, even though we led such different lives for so long. I know she struggled with the way my family compared the two of us, always holding me up as an example of how the perfect daughter ought to be, while she was the wild one, the black seed with the indecent job and questionable life decisions.

We may have switched places now, but instead of bringing us closer, the change of roles only pushed us farther apart.

I found myself unable to confide in Elene, which is especially weird, considering I met a man at her wedding who bears so much resemblance to her husband. We've grown apart ever since she moved in with Damon, but she was the only person in my entire family who didn't judge me for leaving Jim so close to our wedding date. She didn't say a thing. But because she was so busy with her own wedding preparations, she also couldn't be bothered with the troubles I’d brought upon myself.

I don't blame her, but I do miss her. I wish I could talk to her, but I wouldn't even know where to begin.

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