“Why did we have to leave?” Lexi demanded when we were safely outside.
I looked around, distressed. My time with her had been cut short, and it was all because of Lexi.
“You—”
Lexi was confused, and it wasn’t like I could explain why I was so angry.
“You look hungry,” she said slowly. “I came to buy you a special treat.” She held up one foot and pointed. “To say thanks for the shoes.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said brusquely.
“Did you eat?” Lexi asked.
“Sir?” the hostess poked her head out. “Your food is ready.”
“Thanks,” I said, then turned to Lexi. I pulled out my wallet. “I need you to go pay for and pick up the food.”
“Why?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Because you’re my assistant,” I snarled at her. “You work for me. You do what I say. So go pick up the food.” I struggled to control my breathing.
It is not her fault. Stop being so mean to her. Stop acting like your father.
But it was too much. Lexi had ruined my Tuesday afternoon.
She came back out moments later with a large paper sack.
“I made them give me forks. They don’t do plasticware over here, so I had to basically sell my firstborn child to get them to give me silverware. Also bought you some water. You look dehydrated. It’s fancy water with bubbles for your delicate sensibilities.”
Little did she know the type of water I used to survive on.
Lexi handed me the receipt and the credit card.
I stared at it.
“Dessert.”
“You don’t eat dessert,” she reminded me.
“You eat dessert,” I said, trying to figure out a way to have her do what I wanted without it bringing up too many questions.
“Go back in there and order whatever dessert you want, and”—she took the credit card back from me—“see that table there at the corner window?”
“Uh-huh.” Her eyes flicked back and forth from the window to me.
“Please have the restaurant put desserts for that table on my tab, too, but have them tell the guests it was on the house. They can’t know it was from me.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
I tried to stay out of sight, while still attempting to get a glimpse of the woman through the window.
She tucked a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. An achingly familiar gesture.
The door opened, and the woman turned, attracted to the motion of Lexi with her unruly red hair, carrying a giant raspberry champagne cake.
“What in God’s name is that?” I hissed, pressed flat against the wall.
“That wall is dirty. People pee on that wall. Get away from that,” Lexi scolded. “This is a nice suit.”
