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“I’m not letting you get me drunk.”
“Just a glass or two won’t hurt. Alright? Besides, I dare say you don’t want to go home already; your mum would be cross.”
“She’d only spend the day pouring her eyes out.” She sniffled and sighed as the sarcasm was delivered, wiping her eyes some more. “That’s all.”
“Like mother like daughter, hmm?” A cold, red-eyed look was shot at him, her face a grimace, make-up smeared about. Soon he starkly contrasted her as his sympathetic look turn to a scarcely-suppressed grin as he looked to her, the edges of his mouth curling up until the lips themselves parted as he began to laugh. Confusion went over her face before realization. Inevitably outrage quickly followed suit as she swatted him.
“You bastard!” He just laughed in reply as he was assaulted by an exquisitely dressed woman with ridiculously displaced makeup.
She sat across from him, arms folded, looking off to a window. Her face was the only feminine one of the establishment untouched by make-up but she didn’t give a damn, and took no pleasure when he said that he didn’t either. What annoyed her most was that without the make-up, her blush was on full display as he had told her he found her beautiful none the less while they were still in the vehicle.
“Would you like a cream pie for dessert?” A reference to when he’d said she looked like a clown, and she scowled at him, her lips turned down cruelly and her eyes narrow. He swirled the wine about in his glass, leaning back in his chair. She had declined on the alcohol and instead decided on water, just to spite him.
“I’m going to look for the biggest bloody number I can on the menu and order ten of them.” She leaned forth as she said it, attention turned from the window to the man.
“Come now, be sensible.” He ignored the white-haired woman sitting nearby with a couple of her equally light-haired friends, looking over with a funny look at her vulgarity. “Perhaps we could arrange for a second one to be delivered to your mother or somehow bring one home. I suppose I could simply pay them for one of their plates, though. You’d have to carry it on the way back.”
“Oh, um...” she’d been taken aback as he gave careful and clear consideration to how they could bring a luxury dish back with her for her mother.
“Think she’d like that?”
“A bit unorthodox, but... well, she does love crab, at least she did.”
“Why not anymore?”
“It can give her terrible gout sometimes.”
“Ah, well, don’t want that. Em... does she like steak? A classic roast and veggies with gravy, perhaps?”
“Mmm, that does sound good.”
“Yeah, too bad you’re only getting a slice of partially-done toast.” She breathed half a chuckle before correcting herself, looking to
him and quickly bringing back a cross look. Bastard had gotten her guard down. “What? I’m not all bad.” He continued, seeing the look of disdain she’d painted herself with. “I’ll order a few crumbs for appetizer of course.” Her mouth began to twist, trying to keep on a frown. “Look at that.” He reached out to the bowl of sugar that awaited someone to order coffee or tea, a transparent glass lid resting on it. “A few grains for dessert, can’t say I’m not generous. Don’t get greedy though.” He slid the bowl a couple inches towards her.
“You-...” the elderly woman looked to her with displeasure, awaiting more profane talk from the young’ins. Emma looked aside, unable to keep her grin away. After a moment she made a side-long glance to him, her smile vanished and her eyebrows lowered in confusion. The Duke simply looked to her with an earnest smile, looking directly at her. A couple seconds ticked by before she finally asked “what?” in a rather annoyed whisper.
“Your smile is like that of an angel...” he whispered back, and his smile grew as so did the shade of red on her cheeks. “Ah.”
“Pardon the wait.” The waiter had given her a slight start, but he handed a menu to her before giving one to the gentleman.
“Thank you.” Declan gave, accepting the folded piece of paper.
“You’re welcome. Would you like another, sir?” He gestured to the glass.
“Please.”
“Water, miss?”
She stared at the items on the menu, eyebrows high, eyes wide. It was the most expensive she’d ever seen; the economic nature that her family has been left in upon her father’s death, indeed the questionable nature it had been prior, not to mention her almost complete lack of dates in her young adult life... she could hardly fathom that things could be so expensive.
“Em... Emma?”
“Mmm?” She looked up to him, then the waiter, having been brought from her trance. The standing fellow’s eyes went from her to her glass, bringing her attention down to it.
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Would you like to try their merlot? It’s quite lovely.” Her date asked, and after a second or two of thought, gave in. Swearing brevity, their server left them with their menus, on the way asking a table if they were enjoying the meal.
