A Dinner

My heart pounded incessantly as Marco led me out of the room. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand, probably trying to calm me down, but it wasn't enough. I had absolutely no idea what a host was like in a mansion of this size and luxury.

"I'm afraid of meeting your father," I whispered, squeezing Marco's hand as we turned into another room.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"No."

"Then you'll be fine meeting my father."

I frowned, wanting to ask him what he meant, but I quickly dropped it when we turned another corner and the scene in front of me was a dining table with a large number of chairs and four people sitting there.

Starting at the head of the table was a middle-aged man who looked so authoritative, powerful, and seemed to have so many things in his hands. One hundred percent sure it was Marco's father, the owner of this place, the master of this mansion. He had black hair, combed neatly back like Marco used to do. I now know where Marco's dominant attitude came from. Apparently he had a very good mentor.

Then nearby, in the left row of seats was a woman who was probably three or four years younger than me. Her makeup was very eccentric with very thick black eyeliner, so contrasting with her pale skin. There was a black chocker around her neck. Her blonde hair was left down very long. Very long blonde hair, was she the woman at the party? Who did Marco call her? Bridget?

Next to her was a familiar boy: Isaac, the cheerful young man, who threw me a big smile. And finally, there was a dark-skinned man wearing a leather jacket. Around his neck hung black headphones. I couldn't make out his gaze.

Then, the right row of seats, opposite those three people, was left empty. I gulped, that must be the place for me and Marco. It looked like they were going to put us on trial.

"I thought it was just your father," I whispered softly, so softly that I thought Marco wouldn't hear.

"I forgot to tell you there were them too." Apparently he heard. And what the fuck was his answer? It's so easy for him to say. And damn it, the more Marco pulled me closer to them, the more my heart felt like it was going to explode. "Father, this is Leandra."

Marco's father got up from his chair, making the other three stand up as well. His gaze rested on me for a long time, as if he was digging up the past by looking at me.

"Hello, Mr. Montgomery." Damn, my lips trembled slightly. It's a good thing I remember Marco's last name well. Yesterday night after he told me his full name before he fell asleep, I went back on guard. Remembering his name well, practicing spelling it correctly, repeatedly saying it silently until the word Marco Montgomery seemed to have no meaning. "I'm Leandra. Leandra Corbin."

"Thomas Montgomery." The man extended his left hand, greeting me. It felt strange, but I did the same. His handshake felt so tight, but his palm was cold. He then invited me to sit in the "defendant's chair". And when he returned to his seat, the other three did the same. I greeted them with an awkward smile.

"Brigitte Paris," said the woman whose name I mistook for Bridget. The woman Marco had embraced at the party. The woman Marco approached after he pretended to dump me.

Isaac raised his right hand. "Hello again, Leandra ...." His smile was as wide as ever. "And this is Kevin." He nudged the arm of the man with the headphone. The man interpreted Isaac's code by nodding briefly at me. It was probably his best way of greeting me.

Mr. Montgomery finally got the dinner started. He orders whoever is behind him to prepare the food immediately. Two men and one woman appeared with a tray in each hand. They went back and forth three times until finally all the dishes were served on this huge table.

"It's good to know that from now on I won't be having to eat alone." Mr. Montgomery started the conversation. A question immediately popped into my mind: Marco was his only family?

"You know I don't like where this is going, right?"

Mr. Montgomery grinned. He then threw me a look. "Does my son give you a hard time?"

Reluctantly, with a very funny lie, I replied, "No. Your son is like an angel."

"

Now Mr. Montgomery laughed. Brigitte spurted some of her drink. Isaac stifled a laugh. Kevin just frowned. And from beside me came a small growl.

"I shouldn't have bothered asking that." Mr. Montgomery smiled wickedly before downing his purplish-red drink. He then wiped his upper lip with a tissue. "I heard you save him."

"It was-" My breath was cut short when Marco's right hand slipped under my dress, rubbing my thigh. "...nothing." I turned to the troublemaker, his face looking ordinary with his left hand stuffing pieces of meat into his mouth. Apparently he was seeking revenge.

I could no longer concentrate because Marco's hands were getting more and more rampant. Fortunately, the topic of conversation had changed to something I couldn't quite follow, probably about their past. Isaac took the opportunity to talk a lot. And Marco laughed once or twice, with his hand still rubbing my groin. I remained silent, trying to appear to be listening to them while smiling occasionally.

I didn't expect dinner to be this casual and warm. I had imagined how cold and stilted it would be. Or that they would talk about guns and "work", so that I could steal bits of information about Marco's job from the conversation. I was wrong. They completely avoided discussing serious matters, perhaps deliberately so that I would remain in ignorance.

My eyes accidentally met Brigitte's as I bit my lip as one of Marco's fingers brushed over my still-covered folds. Her gaze dropped briefly and then returned to my face. Her lips form a small smirk. Damn, she noticed my distress. She knows Marco is toying with me! She then went back to the conversation. And while everyone was laughing (including Kevin if you include his smile as a laugh), I used the opportunity to jerk Marco's hand away.

I was grateful when Marco finally withdrew his hand, but immediately glared when he put his thumb in his mouth, as if he was licking the marinade off his finger.

A few minutes later, we ended dinner. Isaac and Kevin excused themselves, while Brigitte and Mr. Montgomery were going to have a drink by the pool.

"Would you like to join us?" offered Mr. Montgomery.

I would have said yes if Marco hadn't put his hand on my thigh again. This time he did it to prevent me from speaking.

"No, you guys." Marco turned to me, smiling like a demon. "There's something we need to talk about."

130123, Anne Joyce

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