Page 58 of Bite Me

“I know. It’s okay. I can handle it.”

She squeezes me tighter. “Thank you.”

I always imagined it would be me, but maybe it’s better if it’s her. Olivia handles it all with grace, and I can’t imagine adding any more attention to my professional and personal life. If I fail, there’s no tabloid detailing the gory details or picking apart my every word. Fame doesn’t look like my childhood fantasies. It’s intrusive and all consuming, but if anyone deserves recognition for her talent, it’s Olivia.

It used to bother me. Olivia always seems to grab all the attention in the room, but as we walk along, the familiar tightness in my chest wanes, and any lingering envy I have for my sister melts with the vibration of my phone in my pocket.

My eyes are heavy as I drag my feet into the culinary lounge. I must have left my door key here in my locker because it was not in my bag when I got to my room after the longest day ever. Tonight, my astrology class took us out into the woods to map stars and talk about predicting the future through charts. My neck hurts from looking up.

I struggle with the heaviness of the kitchen door and stop when I spot Dacre and someone else standing in the blue light of the kitchen. The smell of burning oil permeates the air, and I hear a sink running.

There’s something lost in his eyes. His gaze stays locked on the floor. There’s a large man standing in front of him, who looks to be much older. Silver hair, but patchy. He’s not wearing a suit or a white jacket. I don’t think he’s a chef. The dim light hides any defining details on his face, but he doesn’t feel familiar.

“You know why I’m here.”

“No. Enlighten me,” Dacre says casually.

“Don’t bullshit me. I know what you’re doing.”

“Did my grandfather send you?”

“No . . . If he knew . . . Well, it would break his heart. I thought I’d try to convince you to come to your senses first.”

The man shrugs off his jacket and tosses it onto the stainless steel counter. Crossing the room, he turns on the radio and turns the volume up till there’s a loud violin echoing accompanied by a piano shaking my eardrums.

Dacre shifts uneasily.

Thankfully, I’m close enough that I can still hear him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve known you since you were in diapers, boy. Do you think you can lie to me that easily? That I can’t see what’s happening here?”

Dacre doesn’t look up.

There’s a clamoring of steel as the man reaches for the stove and throws a pan that narrowly misses Dacre’s head.

I place my hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp as I peek through the cracked door.

“Do you think I want to do this? That I like hurting you? You’re like a son to me.”

“No, sir. I’m not hiding anything.”

There’s another thrashing of a pan.

“It’s insulting to see you lie to my face. You’re so close to getting everything you want. You need to stay focused.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Yes, sir.”

The click of a burner on the stove echoes in the room, and I place my other hand over my mouth when the man grabs a knife and holds it over the fire.

“I thought you’d be more careful, what with everything you have at stake. You know how easy it would be for me to find your little sister.”

Sister?