Page 29 of A Secret In The Garden

“It most definitely was too big of a bite.” She grinned. “It was pretty good, but I almost choked.” She and John chuckled.

I didn’t smile. I didn’t laugh. I just watched her—slow, deliberate as my eyes tracked the delicate curve of her throat and imagined her swallowing something else entirely.

I spoke quiet and low, only for her, even though the whole room could hear.

“Shame,” I murmured. “I bet you’re beautiful when you choke.” My gaze lingered at the base of her neck. “Some women are.” She would be. I let loose a cheeky grin, lifting the right corner of my mouth before turning my focus to the uptight man beside me. This dinner was most definitely turning out to be more entertaining than I had expected. Realizing that we were behaving like a bunch of prehistoric humans, Omar picked back up where the conversation had left off. “I’m dying to know how a botanist from…” He waited for her to answer.

“Pinehurst,” she answered, covering her mouth from view as she continued to eat, doing a phenomenal job of not unraveling for as much as I was trying.

I found myself unable to focus on anything else in the room but her as I sat back, trying to dissect what exactly it was that was so interesting about this woman. Why was she getting to me in such a way?

“I’m dying to know how a botanist from Pinehurst has heard of JV Plastics.”

“Me too,” I added, catching a stray look from her.

She picked up her wineglass with an odd expression and took a big drink before scrunching her face together, obviously disliking the wine, which made me snort out a laugh before regaining control.

Her eyes opened with an embarrassed look, then she grinned discreetly after realizing I wasn’t taking a shot at her. “It’s salty,” she said to me quietly before turning her focus back to John and Omar.

I raised a cocky eyebrow at her, and she shifted her eyes away from me with a small grin. It was stupid, and only for a second, but I felt like I was in on some sort of joke, that I was a part of something secretive with just her, like we were a team at the table that the other two bozos weren’t a part of. It was silly but…nice.

“Yes, both of my parents work for EcoSphere,” she said somewhat timidly.

Interesting. I noticed she talked softer anytime she spoke about her family. It seemed so different from the nervous, fiery, challenging woman I had come to know. I found myself wanting to dissect her like a bug, needing to see which parts made her push back and which made her tremble with fear. I liked how she looked trembling.

I remembered the way she had flinched from my gestures when I’d moved too quickly that first day in my office. I felt my brows pinch together, unable to hide my dislike of the resurfaced memory. I enjoyed provoking her fear, but there was something in the thought of someone else hurting her that felt a bit like acid shooting through my bloodstream. I made a mental note to take her out back to the shooting range before she left the manor. Next time someone tried to hurt her, she’d be able to protect herself.

Silence filled the dining room, except for the clack and clatter of plates and silverware. It was like she had just dropped a bomb in the room.

“Ah,” Omar said, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

I knew I had heard of EcoSphere but couldn’t quite remember what it was.

“EcoSphere?” I asked, breaking the quiet.

“Yes, EcoSphere Conservation Alliance. My mother is a conservation biologist, and my father is a campaign strategist for them. It’s why I’ve never eaten fish in my life or had a glass of wine,” she said with a charming smile but with that same timid voice. Was it her family that had hurt her and caused her to flinch?

“You’ve never had fish or wine? Ever? Why on earth not?” I asked, internally on the edge of my seat even though outwardly I was reclined and relaxed.

“Microplastics,” John said in mock shame. “You’re dining with the enemy. I think I preferred you as a landscaper.” He chuckled.

Eliza stabbed her fork into a piece of the fish and lifted it. All eyes were on her. I bet she was used to that, though.

“Did you know that over 90 percent of seafood worldwide is estimated to contain microplastics? Fish and shellfish ingest the tiny plastic particles from polluted waters, and then when humans consume seafood, they can unintentionally ingest microplastics as well.” She placed the bite of fish in her mouth nonchalantly with a quick look at me as if she were gauging if I was upset. I wasn’t and gave a small nod as I felt the corner of my mouth lift slightly, silently giving her encouragement to go on. Would she? Somehow, I knew her polite persona would take back over. Shame. She was something when she held her own power.

Omar and John shifted in their seats uncomfortably while I sat back and watched with fascination. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been more entertained at a business dinner in my life.

“Did you know that it takes an average of eighteen hundred liters of water to produce just one bottle of wine with irrigation and vineyard maintenance being accounted for? And don’t get me started on large-scale mono-cropping, which depletes the soil quality and biodiversity.” She grinned at me and drained the rest of her wine as the two men squirmed awkwardly. She held herself like a rose surrounded by bees, completely in control.

I was quite certain I’d never wanted a woman more in my life than I wanted Eliza Arnold suddenly. I cleared my throat and threw back the rest of my scotch, nodding quickly for Leah to refill my glass.

Though highly entertaining, this dinner was going all types of sideways, none of which boded well for my business deal or my personal endeavors. Things were getting out of hand, and if there was one thing I hated, it was not being in complete control.

“But don’t worry,” she said with a bright, perky tone. “As Bo Burnham once said, you say the ocean’s rising like I give a shit.” She held her wineglass up, and a beaming Leah rushed over to fill her glass like a proud mother. Eliza thanked her and then moved the glass up to her lips. Her eyes snagged mine, and I caught a soft murmur of her finishing the song, “You say the whole world’s ending, honey, it already did.” She took another drink and looked at me as if we had just plotted a bank heist together. Good Lord.

“Then you forgive us?” John said with a laugh as he rested his hand on the back of her chair.

She answered something in her polite, charming tone. I don’t know what it was; I was too focused on his hand to hear what she said.