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“Do you have all the facts now?”
“Yes.”
“You spoke to your father?”
“I did.”
“He told you everything?”
“He did.” The fire in her voice is gone, snuffed out.
I can’t even imagine how she must feel right now. She has a heavy burden to carry.
“I’m curious,” I say.
“About what?”
“I’m still scratching my head, trying to understand the motives behind this morning’s publicity stunt. I get that your father is walking a tightrope, but that was an impetuous move—one that could’ve made me reconsider our agreement. The contract was signed, sealed, and delivered. I gave him my word. I wouldn’t renege on the deal.”
“I can explain when I see you.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me.
I weigh my next words as Slate’s advice rings in my ears. “Are you free tonight?”
“Why?”
“Down, girl. It’s just a question. You either have plans or you don’t.”
“I’m free.”
“Let’s have an early dinner. Six o’clock?”
“You’re not afraid I’ll try to stab you with a fork?”
“On second thought––”
“I’m not violent. I’m vocal,” she says.
“I don’t have to fear for my life?”
“Not today…”
I chuckle. “So, we’re on?”
“Yes.” One word that holds so many possibilities.
“Why don’t we exchange phone numbers. That way you can text me your address, and I’ll have a car pick you up.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.” There’s no hiding the trembling in her voice.
“I’d suggest a restaurant at one of our many hotels, but we need a private setting for this conversation.”
“We do.”
“You’re docile all of a sudden,” I say. “Such a contrast from earlier. I much prefer you submissive.”
“If you’re looking for a submissive wife, König, get a freaking mail-order bride.”
