“That’s not up to me,” he said, holding his hands up.
“I’d love to. But I’m not eating anything yellow.”
Annalise howled with laughter, and Nicolas shook his head.
He stepped a little closer. “Are you sure?” he asked Ele.
“Of course.”
He nodded, and the three of them skirted the crowds, heading to a table. Sitting a little off to the side was a boy of about ten and a beautiful, dark-haired woman. She held a plastic wineglass in her hand and absentmindedly ran her other one down the boy’s arm. The woman lifted her head and smiled when she saw Nicolas and Annalise coming toward them.
“You found her.”
/>
“In good hands, apparently,” he said.
There must have been some silent communication between them because when the woman’s eyes landed on Ele’s, the recognition was quietly subtle.
The woman stood, offering her hand. “I’m Katrine.”
Ele shifted Annalise and met the gesture. “Ele.”
Katrine nodded. “Annalise,” she said, holding out her arms, “come eat.”
Annalise’s grip around Ele’s neck tightened.
“It’s fine. I told her we could eat together.” Then, she glanced between the two adults. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course,” Katrine answered sincerely.
Ele sat with Annalise still attached to her. It was awkward, but she managed. Then, Katrine leveled Annalise with a stern look, and the child untangled herself from Ele. There was an arrangement of food in the middle of the table, and Ele helped both Annalise and herself. She took her first bite when she heard Tristan.
“Gabe, are you ready to have a go at me now?”
The boy, a little replica of Nicolas Ramsey, shoved the last bit of food in his mouth and looked to his mother. “Can I?”
While they negotiated the boundaries, Ele studied Tristan. He hadn’t noticed her yet, as his attention was solely focused on Gabe. She wondered how he didn’t feel the electricity between them, how his skin wasn’t pulsing with want. But then she saw him as he spoke to Gabe, how his attention was absolute, and she knew it was one of the things she liked about him. His complete focus. Then, Katrine shifted toward Ele, and Tristan’s gaze followed.
“Do you know Ele?” she asked him.
Ele had no idea if he spoke, if his mouth moved, if he and Katrine had a discussion because, when their eyes met and his attention shifted to her, she was caught, utterly suspended in the moment of his discovery. It was that damn dissociative feeling again, the jumble of nerves and emotions tangling in her stomach, the appearance of being present but knowing she was somehow in a free fall. The wind rushing around her, the ground rising up to meet her, the total sense of exhilaration. The moment must have stretched around them because Annalise tugged on the sleeve of her dress, and Katrine cleared her throat.
Tristan smirked, coming out of their insular universe first. “We’ve met. Hello, E. Fancy you being here.”
She wanted to be angry with him for his knowing smile, his familiar greeting, his complete lack of discretion, but she couldn’t seem to work up the energy for it. Instead, she plastered a smile on her face and gave him a cursory nod. It made his smile widen, like he enjoyed getting under her skin. But then Gabe was standing and talking excitedly, and Tristan sent her a look, one filled with pride. And intent.
He nodded his head in Gabe’s direction. “Catch you lovely ladies later.”
Ele forced her attention back to the plate in front of her and away from the knowing looks casting back and forth between Nicolas and Katrine. She vaguely remembered Juliana telling her they were divorced, but they seemed so in sync that she couldn’t believe it to be true. Trying to regain some composure, she finished her meal and tuned back into the people around her. Nicolas had moved on, leaving only Katrine and Annalise.
“It sounds like you’re American,” Ele began conversationally.
Katrine nodded. “I am. From Chicago actually.”
“We live here now,” Annalise interjected. “Daddy doesn’t.” Katrine looked embarrassed by Annalise’s commentary. “They’re divorced.”
Ele shifted her gaze from Annalise to Katrine. “Sorry,” she said.