Chapter 140 Poison
Maddox had booked a private room at a nearby restaurant. When Caroline arrived, Leopold was nowhere in sight. She glanced at the couple already seated. "Where is he?"
"He said he was stepping out to take a call," Erica replied. "You didn't see him in the hallway?"
Caroline shook her head, placing her clutch on the chair behind her. Erica pushed a menu across the polished table. "The three of us ordered four dishes. The rest is up to you. I'm getting the corn cakes, by the way. They're amazing here."
"Oh, really? I'll have to try them, then," Caroline said, her eyes scanning the menu. Maddox flagged down a waiter, and Caroline added two more dishes to their order.
"And for your drink?" The waiter asked her.
"Do you have orange juice?"
"We do."
"I'll have that, then."
As the waiter exited, he passed Leopold returning to the room.
Caroline noticed it instantly—a subtle tension in his jaw, a shadow in his eyes that hadn't been there before. His mood was off.
"When did you get here?" Leopold's expression shifted, a practiced smile replacing the strain as he slid into the chair beside her. He reached behind her, moving her clutch to an adjacent seat. "Sit back, get comfortable."
"Just now," Caroline answered.
Beneath the table, their hands found each other, his fingers lacing through hers. "I ordered two more dishes," she said softly. "Let's see if this place is any good. If it is, we can come back more often."
The raw edge of his frustration seemed to soften at the sight of her, the simple warmth of her presence a balm.
A playful glint returned to Leopold's eyes. "I like that plan. Whenever we get a craving, we can just hit up Mr. Harrison for a free meal."
"Once or twice, maybe. But do you think Mr. Harrison would be so generous if we made a habit of it?" Caroline shot a knowing, mischievous look at Erica. "Right, Erica?"
Erica nudged Maddox with her elbow. "Now that Caroline's here, you can't be cheap. You have to treat her right."
Maddox was quick to agree, his tone mock-serious. "Absolutely. I'd treat Caroline even if it meant not treating Leopold."
"Wow. Just wow," Leopold said, feigning offense.
Maddox shot him a deliberate wink. "Got to keep your girlfriend happy. That's something you taught me, remember?"
The word hung in the air, a perfect opening. Caroline and Erica exchanged a quick glance, their timing impeccable as they spoke in unison, "Girlfriend?"
Leopold's smile widened. "Planning on making it official, are we?"
The question seemed to strike a nerve with Maddox. His bravado deflated, replaced by a wounded tone. "I've always been official. I just don't know why a certain someone refuses to make it public."
"Who are you implying?" Erica retorted, her eyes narrowed in a playful glare. "Look, if this is going to work, it works. If not, we call it quits."
Maddox immediately backpedaled. "It works. It definitely works." He jutted his chin toward Leopold and Caroline. "Do you two even know what I am to her?"
Caroline shook her head, intrigued. Leopold, however, could already sense the crass turn the joke was about to take. "You might want to think before you speak," he warned.
Ignoring him, Maddox leaned over and rested his head on Erica's shoulder with a look of pure, theatrical bliss. "I am Ms. Morris's personal manservant."
Caroline's eyes went wide. She turned to Erica, a single eyebrow arching in a silent, impressed question. You're into some kinky stuff.
Erica nonchalantly brushed her bangs from her forehead, her expression a cool mask of indifference that said, It's adequate.
Still, how Erica had managed to brainwash Maddox into not only accepting their non-public status but seemingly reveling in it was a mystery.
The door to the private room swung open, and the waiter began placing steaming plates on the table. "Everything is here. If you need anything else, just press the call button by the door."
"Could you close the door on your way out? Thanks," Maddox said.
The door clicked shut, sealing them in their private world.
With an almost synchronized grace, both men at the table began serving the women beside them. Caroline and Erica shared a smile over the rims of their glasses—a silent acknowledgment that good friends often shared the same excellent standards in partners.
Leopold forked a piece of corn cake onto Caroline's plate, then his hand brushed against her glass of orange juice. It was chilled. "This is a little cold. Let it warm up a bit before you drink it."
"It's fine," Caroline protested. "It's hot out. A cold drink is refreshing."
"No. It's too cold, you'll get a stomachache tonight. Have you already forgotten the last time I had to spend half the night rubbing your belly?"
Leopold was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. He moved the glass of orange juice to the other side of the table, well out of her reach, and poured her a glass of water instead. "Drink this for now."
Watching them, Erica saw a glimpse of the beautiful side of marriage. Yet, she was also acutely aware of the other side she saw more often in the world around her—the one filled with trivialities, frustrations, arguments, and a chilling indifference.
Maddox, meanwhile, seemed to remember something. "How'd you have time to come see me today?" He asked Leopold. "I thought you were swamped at the office."
Leopold's fork and knife paused for a fraction of a second. "Finished up," he said, his voice a little too casual.
Caroline registered the slight hesitation, the carefully blank expression, but chose not to press the issue.
By the end of the meal, Leopold and Maddox had each downed five bottles of beer. Leopold called for a designated driver. As Caroline watched the car pull up behind them, her mind was whirring.
Based on his performance, the last time he'd had dinner at their apartment, five beers should have been nothing for him. Yet tonight, he had seemed genuinely drunk, stumbling as they left the private room, his weight falling against her. She had been the only thing that kept him from hitting the floor.
After paying the driver, Caroline supported Leopold's weight as they walked toward their apartment building.
The moonlight was like liquid silver, casting a serene glow on the ginkgo trees that swayed in the gentle breeze.
A thousand pinpricks of light from distant windows illuminated the path for those returning home.
Caroline swiped their key fob and guided him through the lobby. "We're almost there," she murmured, her arm securely around him. "Just a little longer."
The moment the elevator doors closed, Leopold let out two long, ragged breaths. He straightened up, pulling away from her. "I'm fine. I can walk on my own."
But his body betrayed him with a slight sway, and Caroline quickly wrapped an arm around his waist again, afraid he would fall. "Don't move. We're home."
Once inside, he made a beeline for the bedroom and collapsed face down onto the bed. He closed his eyes, the back of his hand draped over them, his breathing heavy. "Caroline," he rasped. "Caroline."
"Coming," she called from the kitchen, where she was mixing a sachet of a hangover remedy into a glass of water.
He lifted his hand, his eyes barely open as she approached. "What's this?"
A wicked impulse seized her. She fought to keep her expression neutral, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Poison."
He let her help him sit up. "What is this dark, murky stuff? Are you trying to poison me and inherit my fortune?"
She sniffled, suppressing a laugh. "What poison? It's a hangover remedy. It's good for your stomach."
Leopold took the glass and downed it in one go. He set the empty cup on the nightstand and, in a swift motion, grabbed her arm, pulling her down into his embrace. His arms locked around her waist, his fingers tracing the curve of her face. "Honey," he murmured, his voice thick. "Why do you have to be so beautiful?"
His touch sent a tickle across her skin, and she squirmed to get away. "Leopold, don't use being drunk as an excuse to mess around. Let go."
He paid her no mind, his nose nuzzling the soft skin of her neck. "Caroline," he whispered, his breath hot against her. "Just give in to me."
A little playful spark, a bit of fantasy, was a necessary spice in the intimacy between a husband and wife.
A seductive, hazy look entered Caroline's eyes. She began to unbutton his shirt in a slow dance of feigned reluctance. But the bitter aftertaste of the hangover remedy was still on his lips. She turned her head away, only for him to grip her chin, his gaze intense and dangerous, his pupils blown wide with intoxication.
Then, suddenly, he was on his knees before her. He tore off his shirt in one fluid motion, revealing the hard, sculpted lines of his torso before slowly sinking back down.
The night was intoxicating. They tangled together in a frenzy, a desperate, consuming need to melt into each other, to exhaust every last ounce of strength until there was nothing left but the two of them.