Free His Absolute Betrayal - Elise's Love Story: The Billionaire's Continuum (#2) (A Contemporary Romance Novel) by Cerys du Lys

the counter while I went through all the napkin holders and refilled them.  I had no idea what I was doing at first, but after picking up the holders and turning them around in my hands, I found some directions that helped.  I filled them as best I could, humming and prancing around, table to table.  Jacob finished his official police business with Sam.  I smiled and waved to him before he left, and he smiled and waved back.
    He was gone.  I finished packing the napkin holder in front of me.
    "Nice job," Sam said from behind me.  "You're hired."
    I turned around, laughing.  "Thanks, Sam."
    Lucent joined us, stepping out from behind the curtain of the storage closet.  "Thank you, Sam," he said.  "And you, Miss Tanner."
    "You have to call me Elise for that," I said.  "I saved your life."
    Lucent smiled.  "I don't know if I'd go that far.  I do appreciate your quick thinking, though.  Thank you, Elise."
    I smiled and skipped over to Lucent and hugged him.  He put an arm around me, protective, and held me close.
    "So..." Sam said, looking to the both of us.  "Mind explaining that little incident?"
    ...
    Lucent went to speak with Sam in the kitchens.  He asked me to stay in the dining area so he could explain things more easily, but I didn't really understand that.  I stayed, though, because what else was I supposed to do?  Follow them, defy Lucent outright?
    I had no problems with defiance, but I didn't know what good it'd be right now.  I didn't know what I could add to the conversation with Sam; I didn't know what I could say that would help anyone understand anything.
    Yes, I wanted to hear what Lucent had to say, but a part of me thought I already knew.  Another part of me thought that I had nothing to add by being there, that my presence in the conversation would be pointless, and so why force myself into it?
    While the two men talked, I brought our plates back to our booth, and nibbled at my food while waiting for Lucent to return.  It didn't taste as good as before, though I didn't know why.  Everything seemed more serious now, even this breakfast—this meal—and it leeched the enjoyment out of it.  The flavors became bland, almost sickly and pale on my tongue, tasting of vague remnants of nothingness.
    I felt sadly poetic at the realization of it, but there wasn't much I could do about that.  I should eat it anyways.  I mean, the kiwi tasted alright, sort of.  Maybe.
    I peeked over my shoulder and stared past the cashier's counter and into the kitchens.  I didn't see Lucent or Sam, but slight shadows flickered here and there, giving me a faint glimpse of the idea of them.
    I didn't belong here, and I knew that.  Not specifically here , but just here in this situation, having gone through all of this, having done everything I did.  Except what did I do to get here?  Not much, actually.  All things considered, I was along for the ride more than anything else.
    Sam's Delicatessen was a regular sandwich shop by day, though in the mornings he catered to a different sort of breakfast crowd.  People who attended his club for BDSM things and that sort of alternative lifestyle came here in the mornings sometimes.  They were nice people, yes.  Lucent and I chatted with them sometimes.  Mainly me, though Lucent joined in on occasion.  I didn't really want to chat with them, but I didn't not want to chat with them, either.  It just sort of happened?  They talked, said hello, I said hi back, this came to that, they sat near us.  It was quiet and comfy and cozy and nice.
    They seemed normal enough, except they liked to partake in alternative bedroom activities.  Whips and chains and paddles and tying people up and spankings.  Orders, demands, commands, forced into action, with feigned reluctance, or not.  Sometimes it all seemed a little out there to me, like I couldn't even begin to comprehend it.  I didn't understand them, though I didn't want to judge them for that, either.  They'd been