Just get through this.
I go through the rest of my fake story while Anderson finishes his drink, then a second, and then mine, since I obviously haven't touched it. I tell him about the colleges I never went to, the house in Malibu I don't have, and the ski-trip to Switzerland I'm not taking next month while he eye-rollingly orders the both of us the closest thing to a hamburger you could hope to get at a small restaurant in Turkey.
It's a constant struggle to keep the smile on my face as he gets drunker and drunker. Because the more he drinks, and the louder he gets, the closer to Bill he gets in my eye. And that nagging, horrible little burning thought in the back of my head about what probably needs to come later tonight has me almost gagging on my food.
But I have to do this, because family is family, and it took me most of my life to find one who loved me and I'm sure as hell not going to give up on him.
“Well, Anderson, thank you for such a lovely evening!” I smile as I put my napkin down. He's wasted; looking at me cockeyed as he sips his whiskey and slumps in his chair.
This might just be the miracle I need; a date that's far too drunk to do anything but go home and sleep. I'm not saying I can't do this, but I'll certainly put it off as long as I fucking can.
His hand moves across the table faster than I'd ever give him credit for and tightly grabs my wrist; “Hey now, hell no. The night's not even begun, babe.”
I knew this is where this was headed when I signed up for this, but the reality has my whole body freezing up; my heart pounding in my throat.
I have to do this, for my family
“Oh, I-”
OK, I lied, I can't do this. The revelation hits me the second I look down into Anderson’s horrible, leering face and see the terrible man I killed there in his eyes. And suddenly, the whole plan is crumbling around me, because I know right there that there's no fucking way I can do this.
“Oh c’mon now, honey.” He's leaning close across the already small table, touching my hands, making my blood freeze as he gets closer and closer with those piggish eyes gleaming at me; “Let's go find ourselves a quiet place and keep the party going.”
“I-”
And then it's not Anderson in front of me anymore, it's fully Bill. It's Bill bullying me around, Bill ordering me to do something, Bill opening the bathroom door while I'm showering and grinning at me while I shriek. He may have never touched me in that way, aside from the hits and the slaps and the burns, but they were the same lingering looks and leers that this man is giving me right now. And I'm slowly feeling myself freeze up, losing my ability to say no, or really anything else as he invades my personal space, slowly wearing and breaking me down.
I'm freezing up in a way I never do, and all I want to do right then is get away from him, even if I'm pretty sure I couldn't make my legs work anyways.
“C’mon, baby.”
“I..I-”
“Let Anderson make you feel real goo-”
He grunts suddenly as he's shoved away from me, and I gasp and look up in shock.
Of course, it's Bryce. Bryce with his teeth bared like some sort of wild animal and every muscle in his body tensed while his eyes blaze liquid fire and hatred at the man he's just shoved away from me.
Anderson sputters as he leaps to his feet; “Hey pal, what the shit!”
For a moment, I think Bryce is going to actually kill him, or at least break him in horrible ways with his bare hands. But I can physically see the way he shoves that down inside; the way he takes a breath, the way his face drops back to neutral and the way he forces the anger from every fiber of his being.
He turns to me, all smiles now; “Ms. Black; I'm sorry but you've got a call from the home office, and it's very important.”
“Hey bud, I'm talkin to y-”
“Apologies,” Bryce says, his voice like hard-honed steel; “But Ms. Black has business to attend to.”
I recover, picking my jaw off the ground as I stare at Bryce and try and collect my thoughts; “Oh, yes, I'm sorry Anderson, this is my- my assistant.”
Bryce shoots me a dark look.
“Well, send him the fuck away, babe.”
“I'm so sorry,” I say, wincing like leaving this utter debacle of a date is the last thing I want to do right now; “I really do have to take this though.”
Anderson glowers at Bryce; the two of them facing each other unflinchingly with the drunk one on the left probably totally unaware of how close he is to being torn limb from limb by the dark-haired man calmly smiling at him.
“I'll call you, I promise,” I say quickly to Anderson as I grab Bryce's arm with an iron grip and quickly drag us through the restaurant towards the door.
“I can not believe you!” We've marched back to the room in silence; past the glimmering candles of the light festival and through the shadows dancing on the old stonework walls of the city. But once we're back in the hotel room, I whirl on Bryce.