Ana held the heavy cardstock invitation with both hands before reaching up to the brass door knocker. She lifted it and knocked twice in quick succession as a wave of regret fell over her, wondering if her invitation was a mistake. A thin, older woman with a blunted bob and bangs answered the door before Ana could give much thought to the validity of her invitation.
"Hello." Ana said, still holding her invitation, "I'm Ana, Dr. Lecter invited me." She finished holding out a hand to greet the woman.
"Oh, of course. Come in, come in," The woman took her by the elbow instead, leading her into the foyer and closing the door behind them, "He'll be absolutely delighted you came."
"I'm sorry," Ana started, a little surprised by the woman's familiarity, "I think I've found myself at a disadvantage. You seem to know who I am, but I don't know your name." Ana tucked the invitation into her coat pocket, no longer clutching to the only piece of evidence that she was meant to be there.
"I'm Jillian," The woman answered, taking Ana's coat from her shoulders, "Hannibal is, of course, busy in the kitchen right now, but I'm more than happy to steal your attention until he's free."
Jillian hung Ana's coat in the foyer closet and led her into the busy drawing room. It was warm with the hum of conversation. Ana took a glass of champagne from the table of canapé and aperitif as they passed through the center of the room.
"I was just in the middle of a conversation with two of the university's professors about absurdism if you'd like to join. I'm sure you're familiar with Camus." Jullian stated as they approached two men in heated debate in front of the fireplace. One finished his drink and set the empty glass amongst several others crowding the mantel.
"Robert, Kent, this is Ana," Jullian said, motioning toward Ana.
"Well, as I was saying," One of the men began, barely acknowledging the introduction with a quick nod before turning his interest back to the dispute at hand. His voice melded into the background noise of the other guest as Ana looked around the room. She glanced over her shoulder toward the closed kitchen door. She took a deep drink from her glass just before her fixation was broken.
"Ana, what do you think?" Jullian asked, pulling Ana's attention back toward the conversation.
"Like anyone with pulse, she's much more interested in what goes on behind that door than this conversation," The other man remarked, clearly not entertained by the direction the debate was heading, "Unfortunately, that room is strictly off limits to those of us who are not so culinarily inclined as Dr. Lecter."
"I wouldn't expect anything else," Ana said, sipping her champagne, "I'd sooner cut off a finger than let someone wander around my line in the middle of dinner service."
"You're a chef?" Jillian asked, a streak of slight surprise in her voice that she tried to mask as intrigue.
"Yes, but I'm only the sous." Ana smiled, peering over her shoulder at the kitchen door once more just in time to see Hannibal exit the kitchen. The sleeves of his dress shirt were cuffed and a crisp, white apron was tied around his waist. The two made eye contact and he made his way across the room toward her.
As Hannibal approached, the smell of warm earth that followed Ana became more clear. She wore an ankle length, ivory sheath dress embroidered with pearl and glass beads. A swath of cornflower silk wrapped from the left of the strapless, sweetheart neckline, across her chest, and pinned at her natural waist on the right. The remainder of the chalky blue fabric hung freely and flowed by her hip down to the hem of her dress.
"I'm glad you could make it tonight," His eyes caught the array of empty glasses and Ana watched as for an instant the mask slipped. It was subtle, a glance that lasted too long, a head tilt she almost hadn't noticed, "I hope you're enjoying listening to the professors talk as much as they're interested in talking." He smiled and turned to Ana as neither of the two men acknowledged them.
"I've tried to keep her entertained but I think she's more curious about what goes on behind your kitchen door." Jillian answered, sipping her wine.
"Well, we'll have to remedy that then, won't we? I hope you won't mind if I borrow Ana for a moment." Hannibal said, placing his hand on Ana's bare shoulder blade and leading her toward the kitchen.
"Thank you." Ana said quietly as he opened the kitchen door for her. There were a few other people in the kitchen preparing garnishes and cleaning proteins.
"How are you tonight?" He asked, pouring himself and Ana a glass of chilled verdicchio.
"Where should I put this?" Ana asked, holding her empty flute and hoping to avoid the question. Hannibal took the glass, setting it on the stone counter next to them and handed her the new glass. Ana breathed deeply from the glass. Stone fruit, sweet lemon, a bitter herbaceousness. She took a sip while staring at the countertop, hoping to bide some time before answering.
"I feel like I've just placed my hand into the open mouth of a lion and we're both waiting for the trainer to give the signal to bite it off." Ana said, making brief eye contact before taking another sip of wine.
"No one here is going to eat you, Ana. You aren't a newly fleeced sheep waiting for slaughter. You and I both know that."
"Do you mind if I walk around a little? Nothing makes me feel at home quite like a busy kitchen." She smiled.
"Of course." Hannibal said, holding out a hand to welcome her to the rest of the kitchen.
Ana walked around the stainless steel counter, eyeing the other chefs working to create decorative garnishes. Her eyes landed on the butcher block where a young man was slicing offal into thin, bias cuts. From across the kitchen she could see it, an unusual looking cut.
"What type of liver is this?" She asked, approaching the cutting block.
"Pork liver," The young man answered, "Miss." He added quickly as Hannibal appeared behind her.
Ana opened her mouth but closed it just as quickly. Her eyes scanned the man and the cutting surface before she moved around the block and stood at his left. She leaned forward a little inspecting the livers and his knife work.
"Do you work often with offal?"
"No, miss." He answered, still steadfast in his task.
"I hope you don't mind me saying, but I know you don't." Ana said, before straightening her posture, "A pig's liver has five lobes. They're very discrete and easily identifiable. It actually makes pig's liver one of the harder livers to work with due to the varying thicknesses causing it to cook unevenly. This is not a pig's liver." She finished looking at the young man then to Hannibal.
"No, it is not." Hannibal confirmed.
He and Ana shared a silent moment as the young man watched them. Neither betraying their thoughts with expression.
"What kind of liver is it then?"
"Hm?" Ana hummed, breaking her attention from Hannibal.
"If it's not a pig's liver then what kind of liver is it? Because Mr. Lecter told me it was from a pig when he asked me to break it down."
"Then you must have misheard Doctor Lecter." Ana countered with emphasis on his title, a caustic note in her voice buried beneath layers of self-restraint.
Hannibal watched as she took her hand from the lion's mouth and bared her own teeth. Her bite was worse than anything nature could envision, a slow, sharp puncture. In that moment, as he watched her calculated facade slip and saw her teeth gnash back at the lion, Hannibal saw the full Ana. The fisher cat that lays in wait until dark when she can hunt with impunity, silent and unassuming before the fatal bite.
"I think I might step back into the drawing room, if that's not too rude." Ana breathed.
"Not at all, I'll join you." Hannibal said, untying his apron.
"I'm sure you have a lot to finish in here, I wouldn't want you to feel obligated to entertain me."
"They're more than capable of finishing without me." Hannibal said, making his way back to the counter they first spoke. He hung his apron next to his suit jacket on the back of the kitchen door and began to uncuff his sleeves. Ana picked up his cufflinks, simple gold squares with a black enamel center, from the countertop and reached for his hand bringing it closer to her. She fastened one sleeve and took his other hand to fasten the next before handing him his suit jacket.
Hannibal poured the two of them another glass of wine which they sipped wordlessly for a moment. The soft warmth of her hands lingered, overpowering the cool glass he held. Ana stared at the grain of the stone counter waiting for the silence to break.
"Ana," Hannibal began as the sound of a sizzling pan buzzed in the background.
"We should go out there now," Ana said, cutting him off. Her somber, sweet smile betrayed the evenness of her voice, "You have guests waiting and I get to see you twice a week. I'm not sure all of them are so lucky." She said with a small laugh, regaining her usual poise.
"Dr. Lecter, we're ready to serve the first course if you would like to have everyone move to the dining room." One of the cooks gently interrupted.
While everyone filtered into the dining room, Ana walked down the left side of the table looking for her name. Place cards for other doctors and professors lined the table but she didn't find her's. She began up the right side, a little more anxious than before, wondering if she had missed her seat the first time. She came to the end of the chairs where a card read "Chef Ana de Witte". She muzzled a smile and took her seat to the right of Hannibal while others found their places, Jullian was seated opposite her. As everyone finished settling into their seats, small plates were brought in and set in front of each guest.
"Do you eat liver?" Jullian asked across the table, picking up her cutlery.
"I'll eat anything that's prepared properly." Ana said, cutting into the liver in front of her. She shared a momentary glance with Hannibal before taking a bite.
"How is it?" He asked as Ana sipped her wine.
"Delicious," Ana answered, cutting another piece, "Like nothing I've ever had before."