Mathew lifted the menu and Verity copied. Her eyes popped at the prices. That would take some getting used to. She read the descriptions and settled.
"What are you getting?" she asked.
"For special occasions, I always pick Surf and Turf. How about you?"
"Lobster." She'd heard of it, but only as whispers of luxury.
Mathew laughed. "Go big or go home." He tugged on the front of his tie. He was so nervous, probably more than she was. She wished she could reassure him of her answer, but that would spoil the surprise. She slipped a hand down to her lap and wiped her damp palm on the silky dress. The waiter brought drinks, and Verity held her breath. Would Mathew sink down to one knee right after the waiter left? Would he wait until the end of the meal? She wanted him to do it first so the butterflies playing tag in her stomach would call game over.
The meal came out shortly. She had tasted nothing as sublime as red-tailed lobster. The buttery, flaky white lumps were just phenomenal, an explosion of juicy tenderness. Her family never afforded anything as rare as ocean seafood, even if they found any around. Mathew didn't tell her a price limit, and it was just so delicious. Guilt nagged at her when she thought of her week's pay and the price of the dress. Where else was she going to wear this fine garment? Back home, she'd only owned a couple dresses useful for daily activities and one nicer one for special occasions. The price compared to the usefulness made the plum dress seem like a waste.
Verity polished off her two tails. She was a bottomless pit. "Can I try your steak?"
"Sure," he said with a chuckle, offering her a bite. She slipped the square of medium rare meat off the fork and was inundated with a juicy squeeze.
"May I get dessert?"
Mathew smiled and shook his head. "Whatever you want. We're celebrating."
"What is it we're celebrating?" Verity asked with a sheepish smile. Now would be perfect. Right now!
"You remember those silver bars?"
"Yeah?" Verity confirmed with a suspicious brow.
"The paper I received in exchange is worth a lot of money. Enough to dig me out of my hole. I won't have to close the clinic anymore. It's such a relief I can't even describe."
And? "Anything else?"
Mathew swallowed some sparkling pale drink and said, "Not that I know of. Why?"
Disappointment flashed through her and anger flared, but she kept her voice level. "You have nothing to ask me?"
Mathew stared at her, searching for the correct answer. "I don't think so?" His statement had a ring of question to it, and that was not the answer she expected. She had already played this game with Bernard and the insult still stung. She couldn't handle having it repeated.
"Don't you think now would be a great time to propose marriage?" Verity asked pointedly.
Mathew choked on his drink. "What?"
"It is only proper for a man to make his intentions known. I hoped for a proposal before consummating the relationship, afterward was certainly expected, but not at all? That's downright cruel."
"I don't understand. I've only known you for a week." Mathew tilted his head in disbelief.
Pain speared through her chest. Once again, she'd been rejected and insulted. Pressure built behind her eyes, threatening tears. She couldn't show her face to him any longer. Verity stood, bumping the table, causing the silverware to clink. Heads turned.
"What kind of man has intercourse with a woman and doesn't commit?"
Mathew glanced around the restaurant, as if fearing the gawkers' opinions. Verity didn't care who watched, and she didn't care if she embarrassed him. The pain and embarrassment she felt from Mathew was so much worse than from what Bernard had ever done.
Mathew didn't answer.
"I thought you were different." Before he stood, Verity stormed out, covering her mouth with her hand.
She marched down the block while the tears streamed free, stray hairs sticking to her dampened face. What was she supposed to do now? Every time she strayed from her dream by attempting a courtship, it only ended in her being rejected. California would never use and refuse her.
A small woman with sleek long black hair stepped out of nowhere and stood in front of her. Stopping in her tracks, Verity sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Can I help you?"
The petite woman smiled. "Verity, would you like to go home?"
"How do you know my name?" Verity took a step back. No one knew who she was except for Becca and Mathew.
"I'm Kiko, the one that sent Matt to help you. I can send you home."
Oh, she'd heard all about Kiko. Verity considered the offer. Mathew's mortifying rejection was too fresh. Of course, she wanted to marry him. Why was it such a startling shock? In straying from her dream, all Verity ever found was pain and humiliation. She tilted her chin up, ready to be true to herself.
"Yes, please."
The small woman lifted her palm forward as if to stop Verity from closing the distance. Her vision blurred around her and her stomach quivered in protest.
To hell with remaining a prisoner at her family's farm. When Verity got home, she would pack up for California where her dreams awaited. She'd try to avoid Jonathan though, and if she sneaked out quick enough, Jaime wouldn't even hear she was back. Verity smiled through the queasiness, confident in her choice.
***
DOZENS OF FACES STARED at Mathew, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. What was supposed to be a celebratory dinner turned out to be a nightmare, abandoned at the table with looky-loos scowling at him like he was some kind of chauvinistic pig. Mathew stood and called after her, but he wasn't about to go to jail for dine-and-dashing, so he stayed put long enough to get the check. He expected her to wait by his SUV, and they could discuss the matter in private.
Once the server returned his card, Mathew rushed out the door to the parking lot, but she wasn't waiting by his SUV. He jogged out to the sidewalk and scanned all directions of the intersection. "Verity!" he called, hands cupping his mouth for extra projection. She was nowhere in sight. Where did she go so fast?
"Verity!" he shouted again and listened, hoping to hear her heels clicking. Mathew jogged to the back side of the restaurant and listened, and then the other side. He crossed the street and still nothing. An upset woman on heels couldn't get that far downtown with traffic. But she was gone. He ran back to his SUV and dialed for Kiko, while driving to her and April's house. She didn't answer the phone. He parked on the cement driveway and skipped steps up the porch and pounded on the front door.
"Kiko, open up!"
His fist vibrated the wood door. On the final knock it swung open, and he restrained his fist from hitting the shorter woman on the head.
She stepped aside and waved him in without a word, closing the door behind him.
"She's gone," he said.
Kiko confirmed with a nod.
"How is it possible this is real?" Mathew paced the living room and shoved a hand through his hair. So many unanswered questions rattled in his brain and his full stomach threatened to evacuate itself. "Where's my sister? Why did she leave behind her passport?"
"Please sit," Kiko said. She crossed to the kitchen and said, "Matt, beer?" He didn't miss the exact reversal of roles. Several weeks ago, he'd been the one offering her a beer when his sister's proposal had gone wrong. Goddamned irony.