be chivalrous when a door slams in your face because the woman already opened it herself. And nobody feels particularly tender feelings toward a snarling pit bull. No, I needed to be a puppy. A silly, helpless, floundering puppy.
“Well?” Alexander asked, still grinning because his dear Delaney had such a pretty face but such an empty head.
I drummed my fingers along the length of my knife (butter knife, that is, since I did not order the steak I so desperately wanted).
“I said it’s funny, you asking if this table is alright,” I started. “It’s funny and I laughed because it is the best place in the world.”
Alexander started to shake his head, likely about to inform his broken-winged bird that there was certainly a nicer place in Dubai or Paris and maybe he could take me one day. I cut him off before he could spoon-feed me my medicine.
“It’s funny because my parents always used to say, ‘Know your place in the world, Delaney. Accept your place in the world, Delaney.’ And I always told them I’d prove them wrong.”
Alexander set down his glass of water slowly, almost nervously, as if my words were a fully loaded weapon I’d just pulled from the new red lace bra he’d just bought me. I was tapping the knife against the edge of the table, my mind awhirl.
“It’s funny because I finally did it. I finally proved them wrong,” I continued, barely even seeing Alexander as I looked out over the view. “I’m here on top of the world.”
“Delaney?” Alexander asked, but I was too busy biting at my lip to answer. “Delaney, I still don’t find the humour in that. Isn’t that a…good thing?”
“I don’t know,” I said as I nudged my chair closer to the glass.
I wanted to see if I leaned forward far enough, could I see the dark alley where I first met Ronan?
“You don’t think it’s funny?” I asked suddenly, eyes darting to Alexander.
He looked taken aback. “Delaney, dear, are you feeling alright?” he asked. “You’re asking rather stra—”
“What if I was to suddenly stand up on this table and shout ‘fuck’ at the top of my lungs?” I asked rapidly.
Alexander’s eyes went to the diners around us and then he leaned in closer. “We’re in a nice place,” he said, his tone almost threatening.
I wasn’t playing my role well enough. I knew that.
“I think I know why it’s funny,” I said, twirling the knife around with its point dug into the white linen tablecloth. “It’s funny because having everything doesn’t mean having everything.”
Alexander was laughing because he was clearly nervous and because it was obvious that he could feel a scene coming on as easily as if the weatherman announced it on Channel 5. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“And that’s why it’s funny!” I nearly shouted.
Alexander shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Delaney, dear, maybe we should go?”
“Why?” I responded, leaning back in my chair to express that I wasn’t going anywhere. “My Cobb salad is on its way. Did you ask for the salad dressing on the side?”
Another one of those nervous bursts of laughter from Alexander. “Delaney.”
“All these years I thought having everything meant you had everything,” I said, chuckling to myself like I’d gone insane. “Isn’t that funny, Alex?”
“I prefer Alexander.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
My chair made a wretched, horribly loud noise as I pushed it back from the most perfect place in the world. It drew the attention of the entire restaurant, but I just laughed.
“Can you believe that?” I said as I folded the silk napkin and placed it on the decorative gold charger. “You can have more with nothing than with everything? Isn’t that funny?”
“Delaney, what are you doing?” Alexander hissed, shielding his face from the gawking patrons of the restaurant.
“Surely you must find that funny.”
“Delaney.”
I chuckled to myself as I turned. I knew Alexander wouldn’t call after me. That would be a disturbance. I laughed as I plucked a fry from a random stranger’s plate and plopped it into my mouth. I laughed as I went toward the back door to the kitchen. I only stopped laughing in the dead silence to shout a loud “Fuck!” before shoving open the door, kicking off those painful heels, and stepping inside.
I nearly ran into Bridget on her way toward the dining room, a food-laden tray balanced on her shoulder. She stared at me with wide, bewildered eyes.
“Delaney, was that you?” she asked.
I grinned at her and said, “But who else?”
Ronan
I handled my