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It takes me a while to realize he’s waiting for me to tell him my name. I keep my mouth shut. I already feel like I’m running a risk, just being in the same room as him.
Henrietta frowns, and Camry glances at me out of the corner of my eye. I’m not sure why I don’t want to tell him my name, but I don’t.
“I upset Camry and her friend,” he repeats, his eyes on mine.
A shiver runs down my spine at the way those eyes seem to caress me. Briefly, I wonder how the tides have changed so drastically.When did things shift from ire to attraction?“Is there any way I can compensate them? It seems I have caused them some… distress.”
Henrietta frowns. She obviously does not like this suggestion. And neither do I.
“You want to compensate them after one of them spilled your drink?” Henrietta asks, incredulity in her voice.
“A tip,” he suggests. “For causing a scene.”
I suddenly become hyperaware of my surroundings. The fact that we’re on the outskirts of the restaurant’s sitting area doesn’t take away from the fact that the people at tables nearby saw our little spat and my minor meltdown. An older couple is staring at us intently. Next to them, a man and woman, possibly siblings, are also paying close attention.
Henrietta forces a laugh. “Don’t be silly, Emory. If anything, they should be offering to compensate you.”
Camry blanches, and I glare at Henrietta.
“Not happening,” Emory says. “And this really isn’t your decision to make. I am allowed to tip Camry and her friend, yes? As far as I know, it’s not against restaurant policy.”
Henrietta jerks back like he’s physically slapped her. He might as well have. “Well, of course. You’re right, Emory.”
Emory turns to Camry and me and reaches for his wallet. I blink down at his hands and then at Camry, who shakes her head subtly. I don’t want his money, and neither does Camry.
“Thank you, Emory,” I start, stepping closer to Camry. “We appreciate the offer, but regardless of the circumstances, we still owe you a—”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“—drink. What I’m trying to say is. Please keep your money.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Henrietta nod in approval. Emory pauses with his wallet open.
“I’m sorry again,” Camry says, finally stepping in. “I’m not usually that clumsy. I’ll replace your scotch.”
“I insist,” he tries.
Camry shakes her head. “It’s unnecessary. Save it for your new waiter.”
I nod.
“Besides, I feel bad about—about ruining such a nice pair of pants.”
Emory cocks his head at Camry, who quickly glances down at her feet. He turns to me, his eyes once again taking on that foreign emotion that has my stomach somersaulting.
I shrug. “I agree with Camry.”
Henrietta claps loudly to dispel the last dregs of tension in the air. “All right,” she announces. “I’m glad this has been dealt with. Ladies, back to work. Emory, I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, and of course, thank you for whatever contribution you’ve made toward the charity.”
“You’re welcome,” he says.
Henrietta makes a sweeping motion with her hand, indicating us to leave. Camry scurries off after giving me a stern glare. I guess we’ll be discussing my meltdown at Emory after the shift. I pick up my tray and start to follow after her, when Emory reaches out to grab me.
“May I have a word with you?”
My nerves go haywire at the contact. My skin heats so rapidly under his touch that I almost jerk my arm out of his grip. Henrietta clears her throat.
“You can speak to her after her shift,” she inserts. “She’s already wasted enough time.”
