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“Leave those poor people alone. There’s no sign on the door,” I said.

That seemed to only make Gino madder. “Aye, get the fuck up outta here. This place is closed for the night.”

The couple turned around and quickly exited through the front doors.

“Gino—”

“Aye! Server! Server nigga! Get you punk ass up here!” Gino snapped, cutting me off, but he peered down at me and stroked my cheek while we waited for the server to come out. “Yes, beautiful? Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

The switch up confused me. Gino had warned me that I didn’t know him very well and that he didn’t like people, but I hadn’t seen too much of this other side of him. The man I knew spoke softly and handled me with such care, it was hard to believe he was so harsh with everyone else.

“Can you try to be nice?”

He seemed to consider my question for a moment before he kissed my forehead. “For you, I’ll try.”

He pulled my chair out for me, and I relaxed into it before adjusting the black dress I wore. It stopped just above my knees but showed off all my curves. I was a little shy to admit that I’d wanted to look good for Gino tonight. Something about the interaction between Aniya and me earlier made me want to put my best foot forward with Gino.

Before he could sit, a server appeared at our table. He was a short man, who was a little older than us, maybe in his forties, with pale skin and glasses.

“Mr. Grant, I see your guest has arrived⁠—”

“Do you know how to write? Or use a printer, perhaps?”

The server seemed confused by the question but answered it anyway. “Yes to both, Mr. Grant.”

Gino snatched the man by the back of the neck and marched him toward the front door. I twisted in my seat and watched wide-eyed as Gino reprimanded the man as he opened the front door of the restaurant. “I rented this place out for the night, so why the fuck is there no sign on the door so mothafuckas know not to come in here? Did you think it was my job to tell them all fuckin’ night to go the fuck away? Huh? Matter of fact, why isn’t this bitch locked?”

“I’ll take care of i-it right away, M-Mr. Grant,” the server promised.

Gino mushed him forward. “Handle that and bring us out our wine ASAP.” When Gino sat down across from me, I gaped at him. He frowned. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Gino, I thought you were going to try to be nice.”

His brows pulled in. “That was nice.”

I blinked at him several times before I finally found my words. “Are you like this all the time?”

“Like what?”

“A bully,” I replied, looking at him in amusement.

“I told you I don’t like people.”

“I should have believed you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the server rushing past up with a piece of paper and a marker. I wanted to apologize to the poor man and giggle all at the same time.

“You should have.” Gino snapped his fingers. “Yo, nigga. You forgot the tape. How the hell you gonna hang a sign without tape. You the type that can’t spell. You need me to write the sign for you?”

“Gino, stop,” I begged through a fit of giggles. This shouldn’t be funny, but the way Gino was so serious made it comical.

The server looked down at his hands, must have realized he didn’t have any tape, and turned to rush back toward the back once again.

“And don’t forget our wine!” Gino shouted at the man’s back. He shook his head and took my hands with a solemn expression on his face. “I have to apologize.”

My brows crinkled. “For what?”

“The service here is terrible.”