I cut a piece of steak. Didn't look up.
"Can't you take a taxi?"
Dominic's smile froze.
Natalie's head snapped toward me. Her cold mask cracked, revealing a flash of genuine shock.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Finally, a colleague laughed nervously. "Hah... Liam really is Ms. Henson's assistant. His sense of humor is getting sharper. A bit dry, though. Cold joke, right?"
The others quickly jumped in to salvage the mood. "Yeah, Liam's got a dry wit. Very funny."
When the dinner ended, I was the first one out the door.
In the past, I would have been hovering at Natalie's elbow—holding her bag, fetching her coat, checking if she had her phone. Her shadow. Her servant.
Today, I walked straight to my car.
My sudden change in behavior clearly unsettled her.
"Liam Simmons?"
I kept walking.
"Liam? Where are you going?"
I reached for the door handle. Took a deep breath, ready to drive away and never look back.
But old habits die hard. Natalie opened the passenger door and slid in before I could start the engine.
She glared at me, brow furrowed in annoyance.
"What is wrong with you today?"
I looked at her in the rearview mirror. "I'm normal. Why do you ask?"