Chapter Five: Dinner with the Terrys
825 Words
Tinah had been stared at before—on the bus, in elevators, when she spoke a little too confidently in rooms full of men—but nothing prepared her for the kind of attention she received that evening.
The dinner was being hosted at a private dining hall inside one of the most exclusive hotels in the city. The kind of place where meals didn’t come with prices on the menu and waiters didn’t speak unless spoken to.
She stepped out of the black car beside Rowland, nerves fluttering beneath the surface, her hand wrapped around the clutch Mrs. Danvers had chosen. The sleek navy-blue gown she wore was tailored to perfection. Understated, elegant—exactly what he’d requested.
Rowland hadn’t said much during the drive. His eyes were on his phone the entire time, fingers tapping in quiet rhythm. But as they approached the entrance, he tucked the phone away and offered her his arm.
She hesitated. Just for a moment.
Then slipped her hand through.
His body was warm. Steady. Unshakable.
And hers… wasn’t.
“You look beautiful,” he said simply, not glancing at her.
It caught her off guard.
She managed a quiet, “Thank you.”
Inside the dining room, they were greeted by two dozen sharply dressed guests—business partners, investors, and their spouses. All wealthy. All polished. All watching.
“Rowland!” a middle-aged man with graying temples strode over. “There’s the man of the hour.”
Rowland shook his hand smoothly. “Charles.”
“And this must be your lovely wife,” the man said, turning his attention to Tinah with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Tinah returned the smile, practiced and polite. “Pleasure to meet you.”
She could feel the scrutiny behind their stares—the silent curiosity, the subtle judgment.
She doesn’t fit in. Who is she? Where did he find her?
But she stood tall. She’d faced worse.
Dinner was a blur of conversation and polite laughter. Tinah stayed quiet for most of it, only speaking when spoken to. Every time she glanced at Rowland, he looked completely at ease. Effortless in every word, every movement.
This is his world, she thought.
Not mine.
“Mrs. Terry,” a voice called down the table—an older woman with perfectly styled silver hair and diamond earrings that glittered every time she moved. “May I ask where you two met?”
Tinah’s fork paused.
She glanced at Rowland.
He didn’t skip a beat. “Tinah worked at my company. She was efficient, reliable—and smart. I admired that.”
A half-truth. But smooth.
The woman smiled, intrigued. “And when did it become romantic?”
There it was—the question Tinah hadn’t prepared for.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her throat felt dry.
Rowland leaned forward slightly. “It was sudden. Unplanned. But I’ve learned not everything worth having comes with a plan.”
The table chuckled, a few people raising glasses.
Tinah exhaled softly and offered a faint smile. Under the table, she felt his hand rest lightly over hers.
She tensed—then slowly, subtly relaxed.
⸻
After dinner, Tinah stepped outside onto the balcony while the others lingered inside over drinks and cigars. The night air was cool against her skin. She needed to breathe.
“You did well,” came Rowland’s voice behind her.
She didn’t turn. “Is that a compliment?”
“It’s the truth.”
“I thought you didn’t care what people thought.”
“I don’t,” he said, coming to stand beside her. “But they do. And tonight, you held your ground.”
There was a silence.
Then Tinah asked, softly, “Do you ever get tired of pretending?”
Rowland looked out at the city lights. “Every day.”
She glanced up at him. His expression was unreadable—but the edge in his voice told her everything.
“I didn’t lie back there,” he added, almost under his breath. “I did admire you.”
The words made her chest tighten.
“Rowland…”
He turned to her then. His eyes, usually cold, held something else now. Not warmth exactly—but a shadow of it. A quiet pull.
They stood there, a breath apart, neither daring to move.
Just as something started to shift between them, the door behind them creaked open.
“Sir,” the driver announced. “The car’s ready.”
Rowland blinked, stepped back, and the moment vanished.
⸻
Back at the mansion, Tinah walked ahead while Rowland lingered in the hallway, speaking to someone on the phone. She entered her room, locked the door, and leaned back against it, heart racing.
What was that tonight?
A performance?
A glimpse of something real?
She didn’t know.
But the way his hand had held hers under the table… it wasn’t part of the contract.
- Writer
