Page 119 of The Holy Grail
Malcom blinked and slowly set down his fork. “Oh, my God, that’s it.”
“What?”
“Feast.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’ll be the name of my restaurant.Feast.”
“Really?”
“What do you think?”
“Well, since I kind of came up with it, I like it. So, my vote is ‘Yes’.”
Malcom looked over at Jules. “What do you think?”
Jules slowly nodded. “I like it, too. My vote is also ‘Yes’.”
Malcom took a drink of wine, pleased. “Feast. It’s perfect.”
With the meal now mostly over, Evan set his napkin on the table and leaned back in his chair. “So … should we get to the reason why I’m really here?” he asked, pretty sure he knew what the reason was, and knowing it wasn’t for the good food or the amusing conversation thus far.
“Well …” Malcom cleared his throat. “Jules and I have been talking, and we both want to start up a triad with you.”
For a moment, Evan was amused at the slightly awkward delivery, but then shook his head. “No.”
“You haven’t even—”
“No. You’re not ready, and for all I know, neither is she—”
“I’m right here,” Jules said.
“Sorry.” Evan glanced at her, forcing himself to not get distracted by the way her bright hair caught the light from the rustic chandelier hanging over the table. “And for all I know, neither areyou.” He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “So, thank you for an amazing dinner, the expensive wine, and the chance to meet your cat, but I’m going to head out now.” Looking from one to the other, he added, “The best of luck to you both, with the restaurant and … whatever. I’m sure we’ll run into each other here and there, so this isn’t goodbye forever, it’s just goodbye for now.”
He got only a few feet away before Jules stopped him. “Sit your ass back down.”
Evan turned, shocked at both the words and theDon’t fuck with metone she’d used to say them. “What?”
“You heard me. We’re not done talking … in fact, we haven’t even gotten started.” She pointed to his seat like a drill sergeant. “Sit. Your. Ass. Back. Down.”
Slowly, he returned to his chair, feeling like a chastised child. Malcom, too, seemed surprised at the slap-down.
Leaning forward and resting her arms on the table, Jules met Evan’s gaze with her patented Vlad Putin stare. “You’re going to listen to me while I talk. This is not your time to talk—you’ll get your turn in a minute. Got it?”
He almost blurted out, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ but managed to stop himself at the last second, as it occurred to him she might not like being called ‘ma’am’, even if she was sounding like a nun with a ruler in her hand, addressing young students in a Catholic school and ready to smack some knuckles if anyone got out of line.
He nodded, instead.
Satisfied, she continued. “Now then, Mal and I are willing to give this interactive triad thing a go, and we’re aware of what that entails, along with the risks involved because we’ve talked about them like adults. However, you’re apparently more inclined to bail without even trying, which kind of puts you on the douchebag spectrum, and you really don’t want to be there. Once you’re on it, it’s hard to get taken off. Trust me on that—it’s like a no-fly list.”
Next to her, Malcom gave a quick snort, then quickly tried to cover it with a cough.
“Are you afraid of putting in some effort to get what you want, which is supposedly the two of us?” Jules motioned between herself and Malcom. “I mean, did all of your previous triad relationships just magically happen, without effort? Because as someone who’s new to this whole relationship business, that seems unlikely, since I’ve found relationships take work. Not necessarily hard work, but work nonetheless. Mind you, that’s just with one other person, so I’m assuming when you add a third person into the mix—especially when it’s a man—more work is created, which means more effort is needed to keep things running as smoothly as possible.”
She paused for a few seconds, and when she resumed speaking her voice had softened a little. “Now, I know Mal has a few issues that need to be dealt with, issues which you think disqualify him from being ‘ready’. I understand why you feel that way, because if he was uncomfortable being affectionate with me when others were around, it would probably bother me. It might even make me feel …less. Less worthy, less cherished, less important.” She turned to Malcom, whose expression had become shadowed with sadness, and a hint of shame. “I’m not trying to hurt you, but we have to have honesty here. And that’s how it would make me feel.”
“I know.” Malcom took her free hand and squeezed it. “Keep going.”
