Leilani orders without looking at the menu—she already knows the chef’s specialties because she used to meet Charles in the restaurant every week. She asks for a spicy seafood paella and a bottle of Bordeaux. She knows she’s not supposed to drink a lot, but a few sips won’t hurt the baby. The waiter rushes away to place the order.
She knows that Waylen and Leonie’s table is directly across the room from hers. She can feel Waylen’s fiery gaze burning into her, but she refuses to look at him. She daintily unfolds her napkin and places it on her lap.
The waiter returns almost momentarily. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Bamford, but the paella you’ve ordered is sold out for the day. So is the wine.”
Leilani frowns and glances at the menu. “Okay, I’ll have the oysters and mussels,” she says. “And you can give me another red wine.”
The waiter coughs nervously. “The oysters are actually sold out as well, and I’m afraid it’ll be impossible to bring you any wine,” he says.
“Is there anything on this menu that isn’t sold out?” she asks.
“Of course, ma’am,” the waiter says, “But I should warn you we’re sold out of all raw seafood, spicy dishes, and alcohol at the moment.”
Leilani turns to look at Waylen. She glares at him, and small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It’s clearly not a coincidence that the restaurant is suddenly sold out of all foods that can be dangerous for pregnant women.
“So what else do you have?” she asks sourly.
The waiter lists some meat, and vegetarian options, and Leilani shrugs indifferently. “I’ll have whatever you most recommend,” she says. “May I visit the wine cellar?”
The waiter nods and leads her to the wine cellar. Though most restaurants have their wine cellars in the bas.e.m.e.nt, the Castle in the Air has constructed a climate-controlled cellar below the dining room. The walls are paneled in dark wood, and the temperature and humidity are kept within a narrow range. Bottles of expensive wine line the main part of the room, and a small hallway leads to a private tasting room at the back.
In the tasting room, the restaurant’s most distinguished customers have private reserves. Each customer has a glass-paneled cabinet engraved with their surname. A leather-bound logbook holds detailed records of each customer’s visits and personal preferences.
“Where’s Charles’ wine?” Leilani asks.
The waiter leads her to a cabinet on the left side of the room. Leilani stands on tiptoe to look into the cabinet, and the waiter brings her the logbook. Leilani opens the book and flips to the Meyer family page.
“March 17th?” she gasps, “Did he really come on March 17th?”
According to Andrew, Charles was killed on March 13th. If Andrew was telling the truth, there’s no way Charles could have come on the 17th.
“Perhaps the note you’re looking at refers to Dean Meyer,” the waiter suggests.
The disappointment is instant. Leilani nods sadly and hands him the book. “Can I buy this bottle of wine?” she asks.
“I’m sorry, but we’re not allowed to sell it without the customer’s consent,” the waiter says.
“I’ll pay twice what it’s worth,” Leilani offers.
The waiter shakes his head.
“Can you at least pour me a small cup?” she begs.
The waiter knows that she’s one of Charles’ friends and eventually agrees. He climbs a wooden ladder and carefully unlocks the cabinet. The sound of high-heeled footsteps echoed through the room and Leilani turns to see Leonie.
“It’s hard to imagine that you’re still so fond of wine during pregnancy,” Leonie says. “Don’t you know it’s bad for the baby?”
Leilani turns away and watches the waiter. She’s terrified that he might drop the bottle.
“I heard that you looked at my patient file,” Leonie says. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Anyway, now you know I’m pregnant too.”
“Congratulations,” Leilani says flatly.
“That rude attitude won’t help you, Leilani,” Leonie says. “Everyone knows that you and Waylen will be divorced soon. He’s only been dealing with you for the sake of the child you’re carrying, but he has another option. There are two possible heirs now.”
“So?” Leilani asks.
“So the playing field is finally even,” Leonie says. “You’ve put me through a lot of shit, but I finally stand a chance. Who do you think will have the last laugh?”
Leilani slowly turns to face Leonie again. “It won’t be you,” she says.
“That kind of pride makes you look foolish,” Leonie says. “You’re not special; you don’t have anything that I don’t. You may think Waylen loves you, but he asked me out to dinner while you were trapped in the hospital.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my husband asking a friend out to dinner,” Leilani says with an exaggerated shrug.
“Don’t be stupid,” Leonie says. “Everyone knows that men like to take up with a mistress when their wives are pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant, too,” Leilani reminds her.
Leonie flushes slightly. “He’s had to look at your face every day for years,” Leonie snaps. “If I were him, I’d certainly be sick of it. Why else would a man refuse to have dinner with his wife when they’re already in the same restaurant?”
Leilani smirks at Leonie’s misunderstanding of the situation. “Are you suggesting I insist on dining with him?” Leilani asks.
“Good luck with that,” Leonie says.
“You’re so confident, Leonie,” Leilani says tauntingly. “Why don’t we make it a competition? We can both invite him to dine, and we’ll see who he chooses in the end.”
Leonie looks panicked. “No,” she says, “I already won. He asked me to have dinner, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“I thought you just said that the playing field is even,” Leilani says. “Are you scared you don’t have what it takes?”
Leonie grits her teeth and clenched her fists, “Waylen won’t go with you,” she shouts.
Leilani shrugs. “We’ll see about that,” she says, “What’s mine is mine, and I don’t let people steal from me.”
Before Leonie can reply, Leilani stalks out of the cellar and climbs the spiral stairs up to the main restaurant. When the two women reenter the restaurant, Waylen stares at them. As they separate, Leilani can feel Waylen’s eyes following her across the room. She sits down at her table and smiles coldly at Leonie.
She can hear Leonie’s high-pitched voice from across the restaurant. “I just went to the wine cellar, and you’ll never believe what I saw,” Leonie says. “Leilani was trying to buy Charles Meyer’ wine. I never wanted to believe the rumors, but she seems obsessed with him. She offered to pay double the bottle’s worth.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Leilani sees Waylen’s face darkened. She holds the small goblet of wine and swirls it under her nose. It’s port wine, and it smells sweet and heavy. She closes her eyes and feels a tear slid down her cheek.
Leilani grabs the napkin and wipes her face, careful to avoid smearing her mascara. Suddenly the soft yellow lighting turns pink, and the background music shifts to sultry jazz. Leilani looks at Waylen and sees that he’s staring at her with a complicated expression. The romantic atmosphere in the restaurant is stifling, and she wants to escape, but she’s determined to take Waylen with her.
She stands and glances between Waylen and the door, but Waylen remains seated. She wonders if he plans to enjoy the romantic atmosphere with Leonie. Feeling angry and betrayed, she stomps across the restaurant, but the lights go off. The restaurant sinks into darkness.
A few women scream dramatically, but the sounds quickly turn into giggles. Then the giggles turn into the wet sounds of kissing. Leilani stumbles through the darkness with her arms in front of her. She gropes her way through the room, trying to find Waylen. Suddenly her hand touches warm, bare skin. She flinches and jumps away. She wants to get to Waylen, but she’s terrified of getting caught up in the s.e.x.u.a.l activities around her.
She wraps her arms around herself and feels anxiety rising in the pit of her stomach. Why would Waylen invite Leonie here if he didn’t want to take advantage of the s.e.x.u.a.lly charged atmosphere? I don’t care what I told Leonie, Leilani thinks. This isn’t the type of restaurant a married man invites a friend too. The minutes seem to pass like hours as Leilani imagines what Waylen and Leonie are doing in the dark.
A couple near Leilani begins to m.o.a.n, and she imagines it’s Waylen and Leonie. The same nightmare images from her bedroom flashed through her mind. Leilani imagines Leonie’s long legs wrapped around Waylen’s waist, her manicured fingers scratching his back. She pictures Waylen’s fingers tangling in Leonie’s curly hair, the intensity, and desire in his eyes. She imagines his husky m.o.a.ns mixing with Leonie’s high-pitched screams.
She digs her fingers into her palms and bites her tongue until she tastes blood. The thought of Waylen and Leonie makes her sick to her stomach. But she can’t deny that she wishes she could do those things with Waylen.
When the lights come on, the brightness is dazzling. Leilani raises her hand to shield her eyes and looks around the room for Waylen. Her blood runs cold. Leonie has her arms firmly wrapped around him, and she’s gazing lovingly into his face. Waylen seems to realize that Leonie’s arms are around him at the same time as Leilani, and he quickly shakes her off.
Leilani smiles coldly and stalks toward them, tossing her hair over her shoulders. She’s not sure what she’s going to do when she gets there, but she wants to hurt both of them as deeply as they’ve just hurt her.
“Leilani, please, I can explain,” Leonie says, pretending to be innocent and confused.
“There’s nothing to explain,” Leilani says cooly. She grabs a glass from the table and raises it to Waylen and Leonie. “Let me be the first to offer my congratulations. You’re truly a perfect match: a conniving bitch and a heartless asshole.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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