Falling With Grace

“I don’t know how to act in places like these.”

“Act? As in eat?” He rounded the vehicle and walked me inside, his hand on my lower back.

The ambiance inside matched the opulence outside, leaving my nerves on edge. “These places usually have dress codes.” I leaned in closer to ensure the hostess couldn’t understand, even if I spoke English with him. “And, like, five forks. Right?”

“Relax.” He snorted. “It’s just us.”

White cloth chairs were tucked beneath thick, stained wooden tables. The bright lights and swirling steel ceiling set a slight blue hue against the windows.

“Why isn’t anyone here?”

“They aren’t open yet.”

“So that’s why you aren’t so concerned about the danger?”

The hostess guided us towards our table nestled at the far back, a quiet sanctuary from the windows.

He leaned in, his breath on my ear, his large hand warm on my hip. “I always worry about the danger.” Elias pulled out my chair, and I took my seat before he pushed me in.

Javier walked through a door on the far wall, his gaze scanning the vacant space.

Gone was the carefree man who lounged around the house, talking business on the phone by the poolside or eating dinner with the family.

Today, he was a man with a serious job—keeping his boss alive—and it showed.

Javier wore a stern face as he pointed to three men standing across the room and then to three new locations, their feet moving as directed.

“Hey…” Elias took my hand.

When did he sit?

“They know what they’re doing.”

“Sorry.” His thumb caressed the top of my hand before he pulled it away. “I’ve just never seen Javier so serious before.”

He inhaled through his nose as he leaned back. “There’s no room for error where he’s concerned.”

“I see that now.”

A woman approached our table. Her black hair was slicked back and fashioned into a taut bun at the base of her skull, reminiscent of the hostess at the entrance. Shecarried a substantial cast iron tray with handles on each side and positioned it in the center of the table while another attendant filled our glasses with a rich red wine.

“Holy crap.” My eyes widened as the full tomahawk steak came into view, the rib bone trailing off the sizzling slab.

“Have you ever had one before?”

“Can’t say that I have.” I shook my head.

He used his fork and knife to cut off a small slice. “Open.”

My hand slipped over his, holding the fork as he slipped the cut of beef into my mouth.

Warm, spicy juices exploded over my tongue, the meat succulent and tender. I groaned as I chewed, tucking my hand over my mouth for propriety’s sake. “Wow.”

“It’s good, right?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another steak again without drooling over this.” I swallowed the meat and died for another bite. “I can’t eat all of this.”

Elias raised a brow. “This is meant to be shared.” He leaned in. “Do you know someone who could eat all of this on their own?”