The Sea Taketh (Alex Singer) by Teresa Rae

us, I believe we have plenty of time for you to explain your feelings about water to me.” He smiles victoriously.
                  At this precise moment, a fit of nausea hits me. I lean over the side of the car and begin to violently dry heave. Sven pulls over. Christian calmly holds back my hair.
                  “When was the last time you ate,” he asks as the fit subsides.
                  I replay the last twelve hours and find I haven’t eaten the whole day. I’ve been too nervous and busy. I shake my head.
                  Christian frowns, and says something in Danish to Sven and Henrik. The car pulls back into traffic and drives directly to a sea food restaurant.
                  “I only have a couple dollars with me.  I can’t afford this place,” I say, refusing to get out of the car.
                  “It’s my treat.” Christian opens the car door.
                  “No, you three go ahead, and I’ll grab a burger from across the street.”
                  “And face Thomas’s wrath for leaving you alone? No, thank you. It’s best if you come with us.”
                  “Fine, I’ll pay you back when I get home.” I relent, getting out of the car.
                  “Are you always this difficult?” he smiles as he asks.
                  “Yes,” I say as I push past the Pedersens and walk into the restaurant.
                  “How many?” the maître d' asks. He frowns when he sees my clothes.
                  I ignore him. After having dealt with snotty models all day, one stupid guy is nothing. “Four,” I say, gesturing behind me.
                  His attitude improves when he sees the handsome, well-dressed Pedersens. “This way,” he says. He shows us into the restaurant. The buzz of the diners dies away as we enter the dining room. Everyone stares as we are shown to a table. The Pedersens have that effect on people.
    “Can I get you something to drink?” the maître d' asks.
                  “Not with your confounded American laws,” Sven answers as he takes a seat.
                  “Water will be fine.” Henrik also sits.
                  The maître d' hands us menus and goes for our water.
                  Christian pulls my chair out for me. I take my seat, and he sits beside me.
    Sven waves over a waiter. “We’re ready to order,” he says.
                  The waiter frowns at him but pulls out a tablet.
                  “We want three orders of the lobster, crab legs, and shrimp, no side dishes.” Sven hands him their menus, not even opening them. Henrik passes the waiter a bank card.
                  “And what can I get for you?” the waiter asks me, his dour attitude diminished with the expensive food the Pedersens ordered.
                  I pull back my hood and open the menu. Finding the cheapest dish, I say, “I’ll have halibut with the rice. Can I have a couple extra lemon wedges with that?”
                  “Of course,” the waiter smiles and winks at me.
                  Christian sees the wink. He protectively drapes an arm on the back of my chair. “Bring her a slice of your best cheesecake, as well,” he orders.
                  The waiter nods and goes for our food.
                  “Why were you in Portland, today?” Sven asks me.
                  “It’s none of any of your business,” I say, still embarrassed by the botched photo shoot.
                  “Really? I think it became our business when we were asked to drive you,” Sven replies.
    Hypothesis #10 is upgraded to Theory #5 – Sven is the leader of the Pedersens.
    Observations – He drives the car, eats first, and bosses around the other two.