CHAPTER TEN
Cammie
The smell of fish greeted me as I stepped in through the front door, making my nose automatically wrinkle up and my stomach turn as I thought of needing to choke some of it down.
He never let his cook season the food with much flavor, either, so it wasn’t like I was tasting some olive oil and garlic with a hint of fish. Oh, no, it was just a mouthful of ocean disgustingness.
We weren’t even going to discuss the texture.
Colin ate healthfully.
Unlike his brother, who was a big fast and junk food fan, Colin took his diet really seriously.
Dinner was always chicken or fish or even meat-free with tofu or chickpeas or something for protein.
I would happily take an entire block of unseasoned tofu over the salmon I knew was waiting for me.
“I knew that dress would suit your figure,” Colin said by way of greeting as I moved into the dining room.
That was another rule in his household.
You dressed up for dinner.
It was one of the few rules I didn’t completely hate, even if I did hate dressing up for his pleasure.
The dress in question was a sort of deep mossy green silk number that reached the floor and left my neck and a good chunk of my chest bare. Which meant I’d needed to forego the bra that I could have tucked my new phone into.
It was ridiculous, but I felt strangely vulnerable without it. Meanwhile, I had been doing this dinner every night without it for years. I guess that having the option for an emergency escape, though, made it feel really unsafe not to have access to it anymore.
The phone was nestled deep in the tampon box in my bathroom because, in my experience, men avoided feminine hygiene products like they were diseased. Even if someone happened in my apartment to do a search when I wasn’t around, they wouldn’t find anything.
“It is a lovely dress,” I agreed, standing in the doorway, waiting for him to wave me in.
Colin looked like Cody if maybe you squinted a little. Colin was taller and leaner with sharp cheekbones. They had similar dark eyes. They both had dark hair, but Colin had a bit of a widow’s peak whereas Cody had an almost boxy, square hairline.
Where Cody preferred comfortable clothes—jeans and tees—Colin liked to look the part of the boss he was in tightly tailored suits and expensive cufflinks.
His cologne, as much as I hated to admit it, was a good one. And he wore it sparingly, so it wasn’t overpowering.
Though, with the smell of salmon wafting in from the kitchen, I kind of wished he was like Larry and practically bathed in body spray.
Seeing me waiting for my invite, Colin waved me in as he got to his feet and went toward my chair at the end of the table, pulling it out for me.
Cody had never pulled a chair out in his life. Or opened a door. It was hard to believe, at times, that they came from the same parents. They were both just so different.
But as much as Colin’s manners were superior, I would have taken Cody’s laid-back lack of them any day.
At least, with Cody, what you saw was what you got.
With Colin, what you saw was a carefully cultivated mask of what he wanted you to see, not who he actually was.
“Let me get you a drink,” Colin said, moving off toward the sideboard where he poured himself some red wine, but opened up a bottle of sparkling water for me.
Heaven forbid I be allowed to have some alcohol to make these dinners more tolerable.
“Thank you,” I said as he poured the bubbling liquid into my glass.
I hated sparkling water.