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The server reappeared, and Parren’s face contorted once again. Shae gave his arm a squeeze—let the young man believe this was the nature of their relationship.
“Your salad and drink, sir,” he said, placing the plate and glass on the table.
“Thank you,” Shae said.
“I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal then.” He gave a smile, almost winked at Parren—as if he believed Shae to be some kind of catch—and hurried away.
Parren lifted his hand and took up his fork, then pushed leaves around in the bowl. Shae did likewise, taking a mouthful that she barely tasted. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Parren placed his fork down and leaned in.
“I want to tell you everything,” he whispered, the rush of his breath warm and tinged with aromatic oil.
“Let’s finish our food
