“I can see the time, Elena,” he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, sharp register he used when he wanted to ensure he had my full attention.
He adjusted his collar again, his fingers tapping against his neck. “And I can see what you are wearing. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t say anything?”
“I hoped you would say I look nice,” I said, looking down at my hands.
“I am not going to lie to you just to make you feel better,” he said. “That green is far too loud. It makes your skin look pale, and the cut is too low.”
“The saleswoman said it suited me,” I muttered, my voice trailing off.
“Of course she did,” he snapped. “She wanted your one hundred and forty dollars. She doesn’t have to walk into a respectable restaurant with you.”
He released his grip on the wheel and let his hands fall to his lap, his knuckles white in the dim cabin light. He stared at the way the green silk gathered at my waist, his mouth twisting into a slight, hard line.
“You actually wore it,” he said.
“We talked about this at home, Damon. The kids are waiting inside.”
“They are waiting for their mother,” he said. “Not whatever this is.”
I smoothed my hands down my thighs, trying to flatten the silk. The fabric felt cool and thin under my palms, a sharp contrast to the heavy winter coats we usually wore by mid-October.
“It is just a dress for my birthday,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “I wanted to look nice.”
He reached for the keys in the ignition, his thumb remaining pressed against the metal casing of the keyring. He did not turn them, but the threat remained clear in the gesture.
“Nice is one thing,” he said, looking straight through the glass doors of The Gilded Lantern. “This is screaming for attention.”
“Jake and Lily spent weeks planning this,” I said, my hand resting on the plastic door latch. “They saved their own money to pay for this table.”
