The hot bartender who makes me blush too much gives us a broad smile and Birdie elbows the shit out of my arm.
“What?” I complain.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“You’ve already met,” I remind her and Birdie rolls her eyes.
“Can I get you both something to drink?” Greer asks, and I swear there’s a smirk under that full, but perfectly maintained beard of his.
“Ginger ale for me,” I reply and Birdie snorts, ordering her own drink.
Greer makes the drinks and the whole time I’m squirming in my seat. I don’t want Birdie to say anything embarrassing and I kind of hate that I care what he thinks about me.
He gives us our drinks and hands us two menus.
This time I can actually read it, and the memory of that night has my cheeks heating relentlessly. Not just that night, but how kind Greer was to me after, how he told me I could find magic here.
We’re perusing the menu as the chef, the Alpha who hates me, Callum, is dropping off plates to the people next to us.
Birdie looks at him suspiciously and I scoff.
“Don’t bother with that one,” I tell her and she snorts.
“Definitely not interested. Thought he looked familiar.”
“What’ll it be?” Greer asks,
“Shocked, you’re open to eating at our fine establishment again. I thought our food didn’t sit right in your stomach,” Callum says.
Birdie looks over at me in shock, because, well, she’s aware of my temper.
“It must have been all the hate you cooked it with that got to me. Hopefully, you can cook with a little more joy this time.”
Birdie squeaks. “Oh, Maisie, you never diss the guy cooking your food.”
“What did you just say?” Callum says, leaning against the bar top.
“I said I’ll have the smoked salmon sandwich. It looks like it’s made with a lot of love,” I reply, staring at this burly Alpha with an attitude.
His jaw ticks, his forearms flexing as he grips the bar top one more time and walks away.
Greer runs a hand through his beard.
“Your sister is right, you know? Callum is not the kind of chef you want to piss off.”
“Well, he should stop being such a dick.”
Greer shakes his head and Birdie sighs next to me.
“Usually my sister is very sweet. The sweetest actually, but she has a temper deep down in there,” Birdie says. “Oh, and I’ll have the king prawn linguini.”
Greer scribbles it down and arches an eyebrow at me before taking the order back.
“If we get food poisoning or something, it’s all your fault.”
“He’s not going to do anything.” I wave my sister's worries off.
When he comes to deliver our food, I wish he would have done something to it. Instead, Callum stares at me as he slides the sandwich in front of me.
