If you are new to my Reluctant Psychic series, please consider starting from the beginning. The story, characters and events in this chapter will make more sense when given context from the preceding chapters. If you're returning, welcome back and I hope you enjoy the story.
* * *
I finished my second glass of wine and inverted the glass, signaling the waiter not to attempt to refill it. If I weren't on an emotional roller coaster, I could have handled a third or even a fourth glass, but not now. I was sitting next to a beautiful girl, a girl who didn't know I'd killed her father.
I felt a kick to my shin, or something similar. The sort of swift pain that's meant to derail a line of conversation before it drifts into uncomfortable territory. The girls that were close enough to kick me seemed to be innocently in conversation with each other. The only face that didn't look so innocent was Magda, who gave me the look my mother used when she was giving me a lecture.
Suddenly Magda giggled and whispered something to the girls near her. They all looked at me and started giggling as well. I hate being laughed at, and I really hate not being able to peak into their minds to find out why they're laughing at me, but it was still too soon after sex with Magda.
Before the wine and laughter could leave me feeling too morose, the waiters prepared the table for desert. With swift practiced movements, the old plates and silverware were removed and the crumbs were swept from the table. Moments later new plates were set out and new silverware. I watched the waiter's deft movements, but also noticed the girl's growing excitement. I watched them shift in their seats and sneak peeks back towards the kitchen. I knew that could only mean one thing: chocolate.
When the doors from the kitchen swung open and the line of waiters and waitresses appeared the girls fell silent. As more and more servers streamed out, I realized it wasn't just one desert, there was a plethora of chocolate delights: mousses, cakes, pastries, pies, light chocolate, dark chocolate and everything in between.
The girls quickly began laying claims to the varied confections, pointing out which dessert they would try first, second, and tenth. Even as the smell of chocolate filled the room, they waited. They squirmed and adjusted silverware, but they waited.
Finally, one of the waiters came out bearing a single plate, which he sat in front of me. On the plate was a filet mignon wrapped in thick slices of bacon. As the sweet smell of perfectly grilled and aged tenderloin filled my nostrils, I smiled. The girls could have their chocolate; I had steak.
I picked up my knife and fork, the signal the girls had been waiting for. Before I had even cut the first bite from my filet, I heard the moaning begin. The first bites of desserts went directly from serving plates to watering mouths. I watched the eager forks reach for more chocolate, but before I could clear my throat to show my disapproval of such coarse table manners, Magda did so.
The effect was instantaneous, and the girls began blushing before Magda was through voicing my disapproval. I was glad I wasn't the only one who had appreciation for good table manners. Katia, however, found it very funny. "You really must be a miracle worker. My sister never could resist chocolate, especially for something as simple as table manners."
What little gladness I had for table manners, quickly evaporated in light of the miracles I had done on Katia's sister Magda. I couldn't tell Katia, that I had once accidently caused her sister, and my other girls, to scrub themselves raw because I was upset at their table manner, or that on another occasion, the girls had gone completely without desserts or chocolates for a month because my ambivalent feelings towards sweets had seeped into their minds.
"No, I don't work miracles. She just decided to make the point before I could." I looked down at Magda and watched her use a finger to scoop chocolate pudding into her mouth. I used a morsel of filet to point the action out to her sister, and added, "See, it didn't take."
Katia laughed, Magda gave us a wink, and we all had dessert.
I looked up from my last bite of steak and realized that half the girls were missing from the table. The ones that were left were still busy picking over the remains of the various chocolate desserts. I only had a moment to wonder, before Magda came over and whispered something to her sister.
Katia smiled at me and said, "Please excuse me."
During that brief exchange, more of the girls had gotten up, and I watched as they all headed out of the dining room. Before she left, Betsy gave me a kiss on the cheek. The only person left in the room was Samantha, who up until today was the most recent additional to my household. She stood and walked towards me once it was clear I knew we were alone.
She took her time walking, with the hip swaying movements that my girls must practice when I'm not watching. Because when they move like that, I can't help but watch, as every primal urge in my body takes control of my eyes. As she walked closer, my nose was taken captive, hunting for the scent that was unique to Samantha, but akin to that of every woman who ever wanted a man.
She settled onto the arm of the chair, nudging my arm with her bottom until it was encircling her waist. She looked down on me with a seductive smile and then held her hand in front of my face. As she opened her palm to reveal a small golden bean she said, "I won." I noticed the beam still had flecks of chocolate clinging to its shiny surface and recognized the game that she had won.
"So that is why you were all so excited about dessert."
She laughed, flashing her sharp white teeth. "Don't be silly, we were excited because it was chocolate. Although the bean gave us an excuse to have a little more chocolate than we would normally have had," she paused and added, "and why we didn't serve an entree with dinner."
It took me a moment to realize that there really hadn't been an entree. We'd had soup, salad, an appetizer, some cheese, a lot of wine, and then right to desert.