She turns on the shower, not even processing the perfect water pressure. When she’s finished, she wraps a towel around her and opens the door. Price is sitting on the bed, facing away.

“What the hell—” she gasps, gripping the towel tighter.

“Sorry,” he says. He doesn’t turn around, which she’s grateful for. “I have to escort you downstairs and I’d rather wait in here so no one else comes in. I’ll face this way while you dress.”

“Price!”

“Lynell, we need to hurry. He won’t be happy if we’re late for dinner.”

She grits her teeth but speeds up anyway. Carefully, she pulls the dress over her head and straightens it before sitting on the bed to put on the shoes.

“You can turn around,” she mutters. Price does, and she can tell he approves of what he sees. He’s wearing a suit the same blue color as his father’s, but with no stripes, tie, or pocket square. “Do I have to wear this stupid hat?”

Price laughs. “Unless you want to put my dad in a temper.”

Lynell grabs the hat and puts it on. It sits at an angle on her head, the stiff brim twice the size of a normal hat.

“Okay, let’s go.” He heads for the door and pulls it open, gesturing her through. “Remember what I said,” he says before they descend the stairs. “Deep down you are who you are, no matter what you hear tonight.”

Lynell nods. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears.

Price leads them into the dining room where his father is already sitting at the head of a very long table. There are three guards in the room, two covering the exits. Price’s father stands up and gestures for them to approach the chairs on either side of him. Two men step forward and pull out the chairs before retreating.

Lynell gulps as Zach separates from her to approach his seat on the far side of the table next to his father.

“I’m so glad you two can finally join me,” Price’s dad says. Mr. Price, at least Lynell assumes that’s his name, clasps his hands together and his face forms an odd grimace of a smile. “We have much to discuss. But first, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Lynell keeps her eyes trained on Zach, who nods.

“Great! The chef has prepared salmon, so please sit and enjoy!”

Both men sit and Lynell follows their lead, pulling her chair closer to the table. She stares down at her plate, her mouth watering. There’s a large piece of salmon on a bed of avocado. Asparagus and potatoes round out the offerings, and a glass of wine sits in front of her plate. She goes for that first, not even waiting to see what the men do before downing the entire glass.

Mr. Price laughs. “Nervous? Don’t worry, darling. I suspect you’ll finish the day safely in that beautiful bed upstairs.”

Not much reassured, Lynell digs into the food, too hungry to even consider not eating out of protest.