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“Unsurprising.”
“You like my food?” He grins as though this is a huge success.
“I love your food.”
“So does everyone.”
“So why’d you ask if you were so sure I’d like it?”
His grin widens. “I like to have my ego stroked, especially before entering the presence of an adversary.”
“You’re such a guy.”
“Sexism,” he cries loudly. I slap his arm, laughing so hard I can hardly breathe. “Assault!”
“Stop,” I plead, forgetting about my phone and the conversation with my fiancé. That is, until it vibrates again.
We both sober and just as I reach for it, Kerim picks it up and holds the power button. It switches off and I just blink with shock when he drops it into the pocket on the inside of his door.
“Do not worry; there is no use battling him tonight. When a man is that fuelled by jealousy, there’s no reasoning with him. There’s no facing it over the phone. It will only escalate if you answer that call.”
He’s right, I know he is, but I feel as though Nathan deserves my attention. It won’t do any good, I know it, yet I yearn to explain myself.
“We’ll have a good night. Try not to think about it.”
I need a drink. A large one.
Maybe then my mind can be at ease. Until then, all I’ll hear in there is Nathan’s angry tone. It shakes me deeply.
The restaurant is stunning, though not as stunning as ours.
I feel like a celebrity as we walk along the sidewalk on a glittery red path leading to the main doors of the restaurant, set in thick grey stone. People loiter around, sharing smiles and cigarettes which fog the air. I’m thankful to be inside and away from the stench, though I doubt it bothers Kerim as he’s a smoker himself.
A firm hand rests on the small of my back as I’m guided into the restaurant.
“Glitter,” Kerim scoffs after we’ve been led to a table and we’re away from the ears of the servers and hosts. “Tacky.”
“I like it,” I smirk, knowing it’ll annoy him. He only rolls his eyes and clucks with displeasure. “They’re very formal.”
“Too formal, it’ll scare people away.”
“They can probably afford to.”
“Hmm.” He looks around and then orders us drinks after clicking his fingers at a passing waiter. I just know that he’s disapproving of the fact that they didn’t ask us immediately after seating us, but this place is packed to the brim. I see the servers, dressed head to toe in tailor cut uniforms, glancing over at us with panic every so often. They have obviously been told who Kerim is.
“Relax.” His warm hand suddenly closes over mine. It isn’t until he does this that I realise I have been tapping my fingers against the wooden table top. “Your vodka will arrive shortly.”
“Vodka?” I choke. “I haven’t drunk spirits in years. I’ll topple.”
“You are eating soon; you’ll be fine.” He looks over the menu, his eyes set again with disapproval which often switches to amusement and then back again. “That’s if I can find something I desire.”
“Just pick already.” My stomach growls its agreement. “I fancy chicken.”
“Chicken what?”
“I don’t know… chicken something.”
“Attitude,” he says but his smile tells me he’s not upset by it. “You’re sassy when you’re hungry.”
“The term is hangry and yes, yes I am.” Finally our drinks arrive.
The female waitress bows slightly as she speaks. “Mr Silver says he’ll be with you as soon as you’ve finished your meal.”
“Tell him not to worry. I have to leave to attend to my own restaurant. I will call him later.”
“Erm… sure,” she stammers, looking flustered. “Enjoy your meals.”
“They haven’t arrived yet because we haven’t ordered them,” he points out and I kick him under the table. The poor girl looks as though she wants to cry. He grins at me and I know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.
When she’s gone, as much as I want to tell him off I can’t. It’s too funny.
“So what are we eating?”
“Silver will send us something.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’d do the same.”
Oh.
“I’m very impressed with your orders.”
His change of subject catches me off guard. “Sorry?”
“The meat and fish you have been choosing. I will be honest.” He steeples his fingers beneath his chin and scans my face, for what I don’t know. “I make the orders. I go out after you’ve put the order in and I check every single ounce of meat that you have chosen. To date I’ve only changed a handful of things. These last few times I haven’t manipulated an order at all.”
“Oh.” I’m speechless and also thrilled.
“You have talent. I’m glad you’re working in my kitchen.”
My face burns from the strain of holding back my smile.
“Which brings me to my next question…” When he leans back, a server I didn’t see places our drinks before us. I have a sparkling water in one glass and a small sip of vodka in the other. Both glasses are made of such beautiful, patterned crystal. “Eyes.”
