Page 102 of Strings

Her friends are here. Surely she wouldn’t make a spectacle in front of them, would she? She’d never embarrass herself or Sebastian that way. She’s too worried about what everyone else thinks of her. That I know for certain.

Convincing myself, I take a deep breath and walk forward. I’m probably on edge because I divulged more about myself than I intended. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

I take my seat next to Vladimir at the head of the table. Sebastian sits to my right and Bella to his right. Angelica is across from me and Mercer sits to her left. Constance is seated at the other end.

“Wonderful. Finally, we’re all here, just as I’ve planned! Rosa, please have them bring the first course.”

Rosa waves into the hallway and shakes her head at the woman carrying the covered tray. She steps back, out of the way. Two more women join us in the room. Something smells good.

“Now, you all know how I love hosting interesting dinner parties. Tonight is no exception. Let me tell you the theme.”

My eyebrows furrow as I glance toward Sebastian.

He leans toward me. “She does this all the time. Everything is a production.”

I manage a small smile, but it’s forced. Lifting my napkin, I place it on my lap and wring it in my hands under the table.

“Tonight’s theme is mystery theater. A ‘who done it,’ if you will. I’ve prepared quite a little snack for all of you.”

Constance snaps her fingers and the two women carrying food place bowls of soup on the table before us.

“Our first course is a special recipe prepared with this evening in mind. Who can tell me what the main ingredient is?”

I smile genuinely to Sebastian as I place my spoon into the warm liquid. Clearly, my gut was off. Maybe I am just hungry after all. I take a sip of the soup. I taste meat and it’s familiar.

“Anyone?” Constance asks.

“Is it sausage?” I ask.

Constance smiles. “Ah, Talia, so smart! I should have known you’d get it. But what kind of sausage? It has a name.”

We all continue to sip, letting the warm liquid play on our palettes. I’ve only had two sausages in my life. ‘Brown and Serve’ and polish sausage. I think I’ll keep those opinions to myself.

“Andouille?” Angelica asks.

“No, but good guess, my dear.”

“Carniolan?” Vladimir guesses.

“No, but you’re warmer. It’s in the family.”

Everyone hems and haws. Constance seems to be enjoying herself. I feel relieved. This is kind of fun.

“Feeling better?” Sebastian asks, leaning toward me and nudging me softly with his arm.

“Yes. I think you were right. I was hungry.”

“I’m sorry, did you say I was right? Will wonders never cease?”

I sigh and he smirks. Why do I find everything he does so attractive lately? It’s like someone flipped a switch in my brain and he doesn’t annoy me anymore.

“Shall I give you a hint?” Constance questions as she adjusts her bun.

Mercer raises his voice. “Yes, please do. I’m afraid I’ll never get dinner at this rate.”

Constance stretches her neck proudly. “All right. Listen closely. This type of sausage does not require refrigeration. It can be cured or smoked and is one hundred percent American.”

Bella gleams. “I’ve got it! The sausage is Summer. Summer Sausage!”