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“Eat whatever you want, Royce. I don’t care.” Bishop scanned his menu, remembering where Trent said the starters were. “I’ll have the spinach and artichoke dip, please.”
Royce’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline, but he quickly laughed off Bishop’s words. “Still such a grouch.” Royce smiled at Carla. “Nothing for me.”
The table was quiet after the waitress left and Bishop was praying to any entity that would hear him to make Royce disappear.
“So, Ed. How did you and Bishop meet? You two certainly make an interesting couple.”
Edison nervously smoothed his hand over the side of his hair, then glanced at Bishop as if he wasn’t sure what was okay to say. He had no clue what sign to give him, so he just placed his hand over his where it rested on the table.
“Just Edison, please,” Edison said with a bit more force. “And, I met Bishop at my job.”
Another server brought their drinks from the bar, and this time Bishop didn’t make it appear as if he was trying to get drunk. He sipped his beer while Royce made a show of drinking his minty cocktail.
“And what is it you do, Edison?”
“I’m an executive office manager at a law firm. Bishop’s company was recently contracted to do the landscaping. I guess I was so impressed with his work that I wanted to meet him.” Edison gazed warmly at Bishop with those striking brown and green eyes, and he felt the rest of the room disappear… until Royce interrupted.
“His company?” Royce acted confused then snapped his fingers. “Oh, you mean Mike’s—his dad’s—company.”
“Sure.” There was a tic in Edison’s jaw, and he seemed relieved when their server brought their dishes so he wouldn’t have to think of anything else to say.
“If you guys are ready to order your entrees, I can get those in,” their waitress said.
“Nothing for me,” the twerp huffed, glancing up from his phone. Royce had been such a one-man-show as usual that Bishop had forgotten the guy was even there.
“I’d like the grilled salmon, with the pesto vinaigrette on the side, please,” Edison said and handed over his menu.
Bishop was staring at his menu, and he could see Royce watching him out of the corner of his eye… waiting for him to slip up so he could pounce. Even though Royce no longer wanted a relationship with Bishop, seeing him laughing and holding hands with someone else was making him act like an ass. “I’ll have the lobster ravioli with the house salad.”
“Which one?” she asked.
“Yeah, which one?” Royce laughed, making Edison frown.
“I’ll have the Della Casa salad, thanks.” Bishop handed his menu to the waitress then looked at Royce with a fuck-you expression.
“And for you?” Carla asked Royce.
He handed her the menu then said casually. “I’m dieting. I’ll just have another mojito.”
“That must be the new Desperate Housewives of Virginia diet I’ve heard so much about,” Twerp mumbled the words under his breath, but Bishop and the rest of the table heard him, and he actually had to hold in his laugh.
“If you add grilled chicken to that salad, Bishop, it makes an amazing lunch,” Edison added when the air began to pop with static.
“I’ll remember that, baby,” Bishop said, taking Edison’s hand.
Royce glared at their connection for so long that Edison eventually slid his hand from underneath Bishop’s and set it in his lap. After a couple of spoons of his orangish, creamy soup, Edison added, “You said the two of you were study buddies, Royce. What school do y’all go to?”
“TCC,” they both said in unison, and Royce rolled his eyes.
“Great school.” Edison nodded. “I went there too before I transferred to Old Dominion University.”
“Ahh.” Royce nodded as if he was listening.
“What are you studying?” Poor Edison was really trying to keep the conversation light and somewhat cordial. Bishop wasn’t interested in speaking to either of the two idiots who’d crashed his goddamn date. They were lucky he wasn’t being ruder than he was.
“Political science,” Royce answered. “But, I may change that later.”
“Oh yeah, to what?” Edison asked.
“Who knows. Poly sci is just too damn boring.”
Twerp was pouting at Royce as if he was about to cry. Good-fucking-grief. What is Royce doing to this poor dude? “I’ve gotten pretty good at managing restaurants, so, maybe I’ll switch to hospitality management, or food and beverage management.” Royce shrugged.
Edison’s smile got wider and Bishop knew why. Any talk of restaurants and food and Edison felt he was in his wheelhouse. “Really? That sounds great. I think the restaurant industry is a booming business in Hampton Roads. The job field is lucrative right now and you’d be smart to strike while the iron’s hot.”
“Is that so? Well, I simply must take your advice, Ed.” Royce stared at Bishop as he swirled his finger around the rim of his glass and took a piece of mint off the edge and placed it sexily onto his tongue as if it was a hit of acid.
