“Just water,” Stella said. “I’m not staying.”
The waiter’s eyebrows twitched upward before he schooled his features. “I’ll be right back with that.”
Reluctantly, Stella slid into the booth across from me.
Our eyes met over the table.
Well, this was a mistake. Because Stella lit by candlelight? Breathtaking.
She’s your enemy, I reminded myself.She’s everything you hate about the rich.
I leaned back and used the excuse of sipping my wine to give myself a few seconds to regroup. Stella’s eyes remained trained on me the whole time, her shoulders held in a tense line like she was waiting for me to lunge across the table.
Time to get this ugly conversation over with.
“Your brother owes me three million dollars,” I said.
She inhaled sharply, expression furious. “So that whole tattoo consultation, that was what? A setup to taunt me? Threaten me?”
“No, actually. I planned to tell you then, but your coworker ruined my fun.”
“Fun,” she deadpanned, her eyes dropping to my lips, the kiss an unspoken four-letter word hanging between us.
Oh, so she wanted to pretend like it hadn’t happened? Over my dead body. That ugly need to prove myself was crawling up the back of my throat again, and if I had to constantly relive the kiss in my head, then so would she.
I ran my gaze over her, slower this time, and sunk a little smolder into my voice. “I think you had plenty offun,too.”
Red swept over her cheeks, visible even through her makeup. “Temporary insanity.”
I laughed, low and humorless. “Tell yourself whatever you want, but nothing will erase the sound of you moaning into my mouth after I called you a dirty little—”
The waiter reappeared with her water, his carefully blank expression telling me that he was definitely aware of the tension now. He set the glass down and pulled out a small notepad. “Would you like to hear the specials?”
“No,” Stella said.
“Yes,” I countered.
He looked between us, hesitating.
I waved him on. “Please, proceed.”
He started rattling off dishes, each sounding more delicious than the last. I kept my eyes on him while he spoke, but in my periphery, I could see Stella glaring at me like a thundercloud. My, my, my, the shoe was on the other foot now, and it felt good to be the one who was calm and collected while she was barely holding it together.
“I’ll have the chicken scallopine,” I said when the waiter was finished.
He turned toward Stella, looking like he was bracing himself. “Anything for you?”
“No,” she bit out.
“We’ll take some bread for the table,” I said. “Just in case she gets peckish.”
The waiter nodded.
“I won’t,” she said, but he was already turning away. She let out a frustrated huff and refixed her gaze on me. “Men are so easy to hate sometimes.”
“Oh?” I said, leaning back in my seat.
“I told you two that I wanted nothing, and you both ignored me.”
