Steven looked at me like it was my fault. I didn't invite Mike to sit beside me. How could I stop him from sitting next to me when he was from the host side?
Steven didn't like him either, but we both knew we couldn't make a scene. Not here, not now.
I straightened my shoulders, folded my hands in my lap, and focused on the table setting in front of me. I could do this. One dinner. A few hours. Then I could retreat to our room and pretend Mike didn't exist.
But even as the first course was served, I could feel it; Mike's eyes on me, tracking my every movement, lingering on exposed skin, watching me with an intensity that made my appetite vanish.
“Did you like the food,” Mike suddenly asked as he leaned towards me.
Focus on the alliance. Focus on Steven. Focus on anything but the creep
