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She lowers the menu. “Oh, we are old friends.”
I don’t miss the gleam in Mike’s eyes at her answer. He licks his lips like she’s a steak on the menu. I clench my teeth so hardthey are about to snap off. We are old friends, but I don’t like the way that sounds.
Because it means she is available. She isn’t your girl. Her husband is dead, and she can talk to or date whoever she wants. Eventually.
She picks up the menu and looks at it for a while longer and then sets it down. She gives me a small grin. Then she innocently bites her lip. Mike’s eyes follow the movement, then dip lower, leering at her chest. When he finally looks up, her lips form a grim line.
Fucking hell.
How much do I care about this deal? I wipe my mouth with my hand like I have something on my face, watching Mike.
Frank looks nervous. Mike glances at me. He must read my expression because he motions for the server.
The server quickly approaches. “Yes…what would like to order?”
“I will have the Chilean sea bass,” Mike says.
“I’ll have the filet with scallops.” Frank says next.
The server looks at Aura. “I’ll have…” She stalls and then continues, faltering momentarily. “A house salad with water… please.”
I frown and notice it is the cheapest item on the menu. She drops the menu and places her hand on her lap and looks around the room.
Mike leans close. “You know… you can order whatever you like. I will be more than happy to pay the bill. Maybe we could go somewhere after dinner,” he says, giving her a wink.
Fuck it.
I dismiss the server and look Mike dead in the eyes. He leans back in his chair and seems panicked by my expression. He knows why.
“Look at her one more time,” I say through clenched teeth. “And I swear, I will take this fork and stab your eyes out. If you so much as talk to her, I will end you.” I reach over the table like a madman in a movie, grip him by the throat, and squeeze his pathetic excuse of a neck.
The utensils and empty glasses rattle on the table. People seated at the other tables gasp with wide eyes, but I don’t care. He makes a funny noise, trying to get air inside his lungs. His eyes bulge out his pathetic excuse of a face.
“Please, Kalum. Let him go,” Frank pleads.
I let him go. Mike’s hands grip his neck in a coughing fit.
“Are you insane?” he chokes out, gasping for breath like a fish out of water.
“When it comes to her… I am.” I lean close. “And for the record, she’s mine. Whatever deal we had is off.” I point the fork in his face. “Go ahead, look at her again,” I taunt. “I’ll fork your fucking eyes out,” I say with a raised voice. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” He nods. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you,” I say, and then to Frank, “The deal is off.” Making sure he is aware that I will never do business with him.
“Please, Kalum. He’s sorry,” Frank says apologetically.
“No,” I snap.
I look at Aura, and she’s wringing her hands. I toss her dinner napkin on the table and pick up her small Balmain designer bag.
“Let’s go, sweetheart. I don’t want you in front of this asshole.”
I’m sure I’ll be on the news, but I don’t care. I would never let anyone disrespect her like that. Ever.
“I’m sorry,” she says once we are in the car. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“I wanted you to come.”
