Page 71 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

He lived in a literal mansion on a sprawling estate nestled in the woods. Had a large family where people who weren’t blood related were called ‘cousin.’ He’d taken over the family business of ‘lumber among other things.’

Her mouth went dry. Bile rose in the back of her throat, and a knot of fear nestled into her chest.

Overwhelmed with the sudden urge to leave, she didn’t want any more of these people to see her, to learn her name. Oh God, what had she gotten herself into?

“Hiya, boss.” A group of teens and early twenty-somethings came up to them carrying trays of food. All of them were tall and muscular beyond the norm.

Clarissa gaped. It couldn’t be, those were the kids from the diner! Had he sent them there to keep tabs on her?

A young man in the group said, “I got all the food done and we’re just setting up the tables now. I put Nathon and Sam on grill duty.”

“Excellent,” Tom said, “thank you, Michael.”

Michael stared at Clarissa. Shifting her weight, she looked at the distant trees.

“Thank you, Michael,” Tom said, his voice turned to steel, a thinly veiled warning under his words.

“Sure thing, boss!” Michael scurried off to join the others.

Blinking against the sun, Clarissa blanched. A group of old ladies with hats and thick-rimmed glasses sat at a table. They looked familiar. Was that Ethal from the old ladies’ book club that met at the diner? What the hell was going on here?

Another group approached them: five tall, lean men and women with dark umber skin. Their eyes scanned their surroundings while the man in point looked directly at Tom.

“I am Atticus Bates,” the man said, reaching a hand out to shake. “I am the boss of Louisiana’s Bates family. I am pleased to make your acquaintance and pay our respects.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Tom said. “I hope you all enjoy the picnic.”

Atticus nodded, paying no attention to Clarissa. She was okay with that. The fewer ‘bosses’ who knew her name, the better.

Once they left, a group of twelve petite women and men approached. All of them had different features and complexions but held themselves in the same fashion, as if they had too much energy to be sitting still, fidgeting every few seconds.

“Hello, Mister Sinclaire.” A woman in the group with long blonde hair nodded to him.

“Brittaney, how many times must I tell you to call me Tom?” He laughed. The woman fidgeted uncomfortably. “I hope your family is enjoying themselves and that you’re considering my offer. I would like for old bygones to pass.”

“Yes, we would too,” Brittaney said. “We appreciate you reaching out to us. I will let you know when we make our final decision. In the meantime, we’re enjoying being back in Fairville. Oh, how rude of me! I don’t believe you and I have been introduced.”

Brittaney held her hand out to Clarissa. She shook it.

“Hello, I’m Clarissa.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Brittaney said.

Tom exchanged mild pleasantries with Brittaney before she excused herself to escort her family to the buffet table.

Tom leaned in close to her. “Are you hungry?”

Unable to make her mouth move, she shook her head. If she ate now, she’d just end up throwing it all up on the lawn.

“Later then.” He kissed her hair.

She wanted to cry. She’d just let a mob boss rail her on her kitchen counter. And she’d loved it. But it was worse than that. She’d let her guard down for him. Allowed herself to live in the fantasy of romance, letting herself hope for the future. To believe her life could be something other than what it was. And now, she’d been betrayed by reality and her heart was paying the price.

Strolling closer to the house, a heavily pregnant woman waddled over to them. Long black curls were bound at the top of her head. She had brown eyes and a small scattering of freckles decorating her face.

“Tom!” she yelled, supporting her belly and slowing to catch her breath.

“Maria, you should be sitting down.” He rushed to grab her arm.