C21, PT. 3

“Come, our seats are over here,” Charlotte said and led her to the head of the table where Nathaniel sat with Roth on his right and Mikhail on his left.

Beside Roth were two empty seats. He didn’t glance at her, since he was deep in conversation with Mikhail and Nathaniel. It was a server who scooted her chair in. She gave him a grateful smile as Charlotte greeted the elderly woman on her right.

She took a sip from her water glass and glanced around. Mikhail sat across from Roth, but his gaze flicked to her. He gave her a small nod. She nodded back and switched her gaze to the woman beside him, who had her head inclined toward the woman on her left, allowing Jasmine a moment to collect herself. She ate the appetizer in front of her in two bites and didn’t taste a thing. As soon as she finished, her plate was swept away and replaced with the second course.

The dining room featured bronze baroque chandeliers, gilded mirrors, gold leaf accents, and a ceiling mural. She scanned the opposite table that Sullivan hosted. It seemed they grouped politicians, athletes, and entertainers together while Nathaniel hosted the finance and investment group.

As her gaze moved along their table, she spotted Warren sitting across from Lyle and Colette and a few seats down, a mature version of her sister. The similarities between Colette and her mother, Estelle, were uncanny. Estelle, despite being in her mid-sixties, looked fifteen years younger than that. Estelle’s hair was pulled back in an elegant twist, the shine of her yellow diamond pendant easy to see even from this distance. And beside Estelle was Cecil, Colette’s grandfather, who tried to destroy Hennessy & Co. She watched them for a minute. Colette showed no signs of distress that she was seated so close to her estranged family members, though Lyle looked a little tense.

As if Colette sensed her regard, she turned her head. As their eyes met, the significance of their positions at the table struck her. How many times had she watched her father and sisters entertain at the head of the table while she took care of the less important guests in the middle? As if Colette were registering their role reversal as well, she smiled. The look of pride on her older sister’s face made her eyes sting with tears.

When a hand skated down her thigh, her attention swung to Roth, who was turned in his seat toward her. He leaned forward and, under the guise of kissing her cheek, murmured, “Do I have to chain you to my side to make sure you’re where you’re supposed to be?”

His lips were curved slightly in what most would think was an indulgent smile. Only she saw the ire in his eyes.

“That’s two strikes. If there’s a third, you’ll pay when we get home.”

When she tried to pull away, he grasped her chin.

“Don’t piss me off,” he warned before he kissed her.

Her hand fisted in her lap as she resisted the urge to slap him. He wasn’t satisfied with a quick peck. He took his time, making a spectacle of them and taunting her with their chemistry to punish her. He withheld from her all week, shutting her out, and treating her like a possession again instead of a person. He convinced her to give him another chance, only for them to end up here again. Threats, blackmail, and pain. They’d come full circle.

When he pulled away, she was numb. He turned back to Nathaniel while she mechanically ate what was in front of her. As soon as she finished, a tiny bowl of soup was placed in front of her. How many courses were there? She should be hungry, but she lost her appetite.

“Jasmine, have you met Althea and Harriet?” Charlotte asked.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” she murmured and gave her attention to the women across the table as Charlotte made introductions.

Althea was a widow and Harriet was the wife of a digital trading pioneer. Both women were a little older than Colette and, to her relief, friendly, intelligent, and informative. The stimulating conversation made dinner pass quickly. Each meal was tiny, so they could get through all twelve courses.

During a lull in the conversation, her eyes traveled up to the ceiling mural. Were those cherubs attacking war ships? She stiffened when Roth settled his hand on her thigh again. He didn’t look at her as he did so. What had she done now? Was he upset that she wasn’t doing her job to extract every bit of information possible from her table companions? She was about to brush him off when she noticed Charlotte staring at his hand on her lap.

“My husband loved me like that,” Charlotte said in a subdued monotone. “We couldn’t get enough of each other. You think you have forever and then…”

News of Charlotte’s husband’s untimely death had also made headlines. “I’m sorry.”

Charlotte didn’t take her eyes from Roth’s proprietary hand. “I grew up hearing our family was cursed. I didn’t believe it until I lost my husband in a freak boating accident. What are the odds? Then we lost Lily and then Nathan’s wife.” Charlotte took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through, but there was Dahlia and Nathan couldn’t so I…” Charlotte’s shoulders drooped slightly. “I’m trying to be there for her, but she’s so shutdown. She barely speaks. All she does is read. I don’t know what to do.”

Jasmine hesitated before she reached out and lightly touched Charlotte’s arm to shake her out of her self reflection. “This is just my opinion, but I think Dahlia’s doing better than you think.”

Charlotte’s brows came together. “What makes you think so?”

“She’s reading romance.” When Charlotte gave her a blank look, she felt her cheeks heat a little before she elaborated. “You don’t read romance or fantasy when you’re depressed. You read horror, dark fantasy, dystopian, post-apocalyptic, things like that. It’s like listening to rap or rock when you want to rage. Reaching for a romantic adventure with a charming hero in a fantastical world where good always prevails is the best escape there is. I’d say she’s coping in a normal and healthy way. It’s what I did, and I turned out okay.” When Charlotte stared at her, she tacked on, “Well, okay-ish.”

Charlotte threw her head back and laughed uproariously, much like her father. Heads at their table and the next turned to see what was going on. If she had known Charlotte better, she would have elbowed her in the side so she’d stop drawing more attention to them. She ground her teeth when Roth’s hand slid to her knee and squeezed.

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

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