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“Exactly.” Rayne’s head jerked once.
Sighing at all the vampire bullshit, I threw my hands up. “Then why even have me serve? Darren is used to doing it all by himself, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Rayne exchanged a look with his brothers, “but Antoine wants you there and what he says goes.”
He didn’t seem entirely happy about that, but I didn’t probe. I took the chance to duck into the dressing room and ripped the outfit off as fast as I could without destroying it in the process. I’d already peeked at the price tag and about threw up when I saw the four digits. Who the hell spent that much on a single outfit, let alone one they didn’t want?
Putting my regular jeans and t-shirt back on, I gathered up the outfit and handed it over to Rayne to pay for. He took it up to the front counter where an overly enthusiastic female clerk rushed to help him. Drake and Allister hung back with me as we waited for him to finish paying. The more Rayne tried to leave, the more the woman, who looked around his age if he wasn’t a vampire permanently stuck as a twenty-year-old, flirted with him.
He just couldn’t seem to get away without being a dick.
“Why doesn’t he just tell her to fuck off?” I muttered, getting annoyed.
Drake chuckled. “Because Rayne isn’t that kind of guy.”
My mouth dropped open. “Not that kind of guy? He hated on me the moment I stepped into the house. If anyone could tell someone to fuck off, it’d be him.”
Drake and Allister exchanged a look and just laughed, irritating me more.
After a moment, the clerk wrote something on a paper and handed it to Rayne. Reluctantly, Rayne took the paper and made a show of putting it in his pocket before taking the bag she was holding hostage and coming back to us.
“Ready?”
“Are you?” I crossed my arms and cocked my hip to the side. “Or did you need to suck face with the clerk first?”
Rayne gave me a quizzical look before shaking his head. “Whatever. I’m hungry. Let’s find something to eat then go home.” I tried to reach for the bag, but he wouldn’t let me take it, insisting he carried it.
Stomping after him, my mind a jumbled mess of confusion, I waved an arm toward where my car sat. “Why can’t we just eat at home? My car’s down there.”
“Because I’m tired of microwaved meals.” Rayne ignored my directions and headed for an Italian place across the street.
The twins looped their arms through mine, effectively giving me no choice but to come with them.
“Come on, Piper.” Drake crooned in my ear. “Spend time with us. It’s not like you get to see us much around the house.”
I glanced up at the tall, beefy vampire who smirked and winked at me and then looked to Allister who seemed a bit eager for me to join them as well. Sighing, I dropped my head. “Fine, but that’s it. Unlike you, I have to sleep at night.” I glanced at the watch on Allister’s arm. “It’s already nine o’clock.”
“There’s a good girl.”
I jerked my arm out of Drake’s arm and shoved him away. “I’m not a dog. Don’t treat me like one.” Placing both hands on Allister’s arm, I gave him a squeeze and a smile. “You’re the only gentleman in the whole household, I swear.”
Drake barked out a laugh. “Allister, a gentleman?”
Allister’s arm shot out and his brother in the shoulder shoving him into the brick wall of the restaurant. Rayne stopped talking to the hostess long enough to snap at us. “Stop screwing around and get in here.”
While Drake continued to chuckle behind us, Allister led me to the table Rayne had acquired for us. Releasing my arm, he pulled my chair out for me. I smiled in thanks and sat down.
Picking up the menu, I glanced down at the prices. Wow. Fifty dollars for a salad. I peeked up from my menu to scan the room. Everyone was dressed really nice, suit jackets and cocktail dresses. The guys might have been able to pull off being in here with their expensive jeans and collared shirts, but I didn’t think my outfit cost more than twenty dollars altogether including my underwear.
“How’d you get us a table?” I whispered to Rayne over my menu. “We’re not exactly dressed for this place.”
Rayne didn’t look up from his menu. “They know us.”
“Master Durands, a pleasure to have you in our little restaurant.” An older man wearing a suit came to our table, his hands clasped together in front of him. He had the air of someone who was in charge. Maybe the manager? His eyes landed on me, and his beaming smile never faltered. “And who might this gorgeous young woman be?”
“Piper Billings.” I offered him my hand to shake, but he bent over it, kissing it like some kind of Victorian gentleman. Oh-kay.
“I am Richard Griffin, the manager of this esteemed establishment. Any friend of the Durands is a friend of ours. Please, do not hesitate to ask for anything.” To the others, he asked, “Would you like your usual?”
