Page 36 of The Gambler's Prize
When they arrive, Breta’s hug is as warm and majestically maternal as the last time. I surrender happily. This must be what’s it’s like to get regular hugs from your mother. At least I think so. My mother left so long ago, I can barely remember what embracing her felt like. It’s more like looking ontosomeone else’s memory from the outside. I just remember blond hair spilling over my shoulder, and the sound of her laugh. And of course, her singing. Breta finally lets me go, and gives Grimes a very cold double-cheek kiss in greeting. The contrast is stark; she’s still mad at him for dragging me home early from her place. Grimes looks livid. He clears his throat, with a meaningful look at me.
“Before we start the evening, I owe you all an apology,” I say, looking at Breta and her daughters, especially Prevana. “Last time, I disrespected your hospitality and I—”
“Nope,” Breta interrupts.
“Nope?” I say. “You’re just rejecting my apology?” I glance at Grimes, stumped. “Can they do that?”
“Sure we can,” Breta says.
“We all do,” the little kids say.
“You didn’t do anything wrong last time,” Prevana says.
I struggle to hide my smile as they all crowd into the kitchen and make themselves at home around the table, shoving dessert pancakes and sugary cream sauce at Grimes. He looks even more murderous, but there’s nothing he can do about it if he wants to be a semi-gracious host. He takes the dessert out to the underground pantry without a word.
“You’re okay?” Prevana asks when he’s gone. “He seemed really angry at you the other day.”
“I’m fine.” I bite back a smile as I recall my so-called punishment.
Grimes clomps back into the kitchen, face like thunder. Breta looks at him and her expression softens.
Cheer up,” she says. “I’m sure we can find something else for you to complain about. Since you enjoy being grumpy so much.”
He can’t help cracking a smile, if only to prove her wrong. Though I’d love to hang around and join Breta’s family in teasinghim, the stew needs attention. I wrap my hand in a cloth and lift off the scorching hot lid, peering inside.
“Be careful,” Grimes says, his voice sharp.
Breta looks at me with raised eyebrows, surprised at his concern. I’m not. Not after the way he tucked me in on the sofa after my spanking.
It’s time to plate up. No way will I allow Grimes to help with this. This is my absolute favorite part, assembling everything in the prettiest possible way for the delectation of my guests. First I lay out a bed ofallograins, pale gray and glistening like pearls, then a dollop of rich, meaty stew, and finally a drizzle of Galbravan hot sauce. And of course a few raw fruits and vegetables cut into the shape of flowers. I love making everything look perfect. I can’t draw or paint, so this is the closest to being an artist that I’ll ever get. I wipe away any tiny spills or specks on the edge of the plates. It’s a trick I learned in restaurants when I went into the kitchens to congratulate the chef. Sometimes I wished I was working there too, but of course my father would never allow that. The reaction when I set the plates before my guests makes all the effort worthwhile. Breta and family actuallyclap. I feel like the ground is going to swallow me up, but in a good way. I’m not used to being praised for anything but my looks. I try not to look too pleased with myself.
“This looks very good,” Grimes says. He looks up to meet my eyes briefly as I place his plate in front of him.
It’s his version of an olive branch, for making me apologize. I get a sudden urge to reach out and touch his face, ease back the hood and touch the back of his neck. I turn away fast, neck heating. We start to eat, me sitting next to Grimes at the big round table. It all feels so normal and domestic. Like an ordinary life in an ordinary family home. I’ve never had that before. My father was almost never at home to eat with me. I have nosiblings. This is the closest to a family I’ve ever had. Which may be weird, considering I’m still an indentured servant.
After the meal, Prevana and I go outside together. Grimes doesn’t complain this time. We stroll through the yard as insects make a cacophony around us, and the evening scent ofkiveflowers drifts on the wind. A few stars are starting to appear in the black sky. Way out here in the thick of the desert, they stand out more sharply than in the town where the oil lamps in every window dim their shine. I tip my head back, take a deep breath, and drink them in.
“Prevana, I really do want to apologize,” I say. “And not just because my boss told me to. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I just... I felt lonely, and we were getting on so well, and…” I feel like an idiot, scared to look at her. “But I can’t take it any farther. I’m sorry.”
I glance up to see her looking amused. And not at all heartbroken.
“Relax, Florian,” she says. “I don’t want to take it any farther either. It was fun and everything, but I don’t see the two of us together.”
I blink. She’s acting exactly like I told Grimes she would. Or even cooler and more unconcerned, to be honest. I didn’t expect her to want to get married, of course, but she’s rejecting the idea of us as a couple with ungratifying speed.
“Oh,” I say. “You don’t?”
“We’re much too different. Don’t you think?”
“Oh, of-of course. If you say so.”
She’s right, of course she is. And it’s better than her being hurt. It’s a blow to my ego to be rejected so casually, but it makes sense. I can’t complain, not when I’m rejecting her too. In favor of my asshole boss, of all people.
She looks at me, matter of fact. “You’re not offended?” she asks.
“Not at all.” Only a tiny lie.
“It’s just that I need someone who’s a little more used to… roughing it.”
