“Weren’t you separated?”
“Besides the point!” Oh yeah, I’m getting drunk tonight. I grab the drinks menu, scanning the list of overpriced wines and speciality cocktails.
Of course, Katie doesn’t stop there. Oh no. Girl power and all that jazz. “She was with Tommy before that, no?”
My only response is to glare at her.
“I’m sure you had your fair share of bed mates at that time; why is it a different set of rules for her?”
She is so close to going over my knee right now. Onlookers be damned.
“She. Left. Me,” I say through clenched teeth, my patience wearing thin.
Katie leans in. I’m momentarily distracted by her cleavage; I don’t notice the condescending grin spreading across her face. “That must have stung. I’m surprised your ego couldhandle it.”
The brat-tamer eyebrow arches in response to her comment. She sees it, sniggers, and sits back in her seat. I love this woman. I do. But I’m tempted to strangle her right now.
“Are you ready to order?” The server interrupts, oblivious to the tension between us.
I don’t know. I don’t seem to see my dignity on the menu tonight.
Katie hums softly in her throat; she was too busy winding me up to look at the menu.
“We’ll have a bottle of the 1966 Salon Cuves ‘S’ Le Mesnil Blanc de Blancs Brut. We may need another moment or two to browse the menu for our food selections.” I shoot Katie a look that could kill, silently warning her not to push me any further. She smirks in response, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
As the server walks away, I take a deep breath and drop the wine list on the table. Only then does Katie see the price and make a noise that draws every eye in the restaurant.
“Bug,” I mutter under my breath.
“Ten grand,” she hisses back at me.
“Will you please,” gripping her hand tightly, I wait until she makes eye contact before continuing. “Sit your gorgeous arse back down in that seat and let me worry about the finances.”
She glances around, noticing the odd lingering stares from nearby tables. She blushes to her roots, withdraws her hand from mine, and begins finger-stimming under the table.
Shit, that must have sounded harsh. “Bug.” I reach for her hand, but she slides it further away, avoiding my touch.
Fuck decorum and propriety; I need to make things right. Sliding from my seat, I take great care to hunker down and not kneel beside her. I don’t want everyone to think I’m proposingjust yet. “I’m sorry, bug. I didn’t mean it to come off that way.” Running the back of my hand along her cheek, I feel her relax slightly. “You never need to worry about the cost of things with me, bug. Let me worry about the finances. You can just focus on being happy and taken care of.”
“I don’t belong here,” she mutters lowly, her voice barely audible over the soft hum of the room.
“Neither do I.” I grin up at her, gesturing at the tattoos peeking out from under my sleeve and the collar of my shirt. “Let them stare, bug. I don’t need their approval, and I damn sure don’t need their acceptance. It’s not going to stop me from taking you to bed tonight.”
An older woman at the table behind Katie glances over at us disapprovingly, I wink at her and turn my attention back to my girl. I make no apologies for who I am or who I choose to be with. “Don’t like it?” I toss the comment to the eavesdroppers at the table behind us. “Don’t listen.” Planting a kiss on Katie’s lips, taking much longer than what is considered appropriate in a public setting, I then round the table and pull up my chair just in time to place our order.
Katie drops her guard as soon as the starters arrive, laughing and chatting freely with me as if no one else is around. The older woman’s disapproving glare lingers, but I ignore it. I get that from time to time. She must recognise me from the newspapers. Jeez, you’d think that having a “maniac” sitting across from you would make you a little less generous with the scowls, but no, some people just can’t help themselves.
Like I’m going to wither and die because an auld bitch with bad Botox and too many fillers is giving me the stink-eye. News flash Donetella, your face looks worse than a melted candle, so maybe focus on trying to fix that dumpster firerather than worrying about me.
The main goes down a treat, especially when my favourite onlooker finally fucks off just as our food is put down on the table.
“This looks so good,” Katie grins, tossing a quick look over her shoulder for the fifth time. At first, I thought it was because of the nosey bitch behind her, but now I’m thinking she’s looking for something.
“You ok, bug?”
“Where are the bathrooms?” She doesn’t even turn around to look at me, her eyes darting around the restaurant, hoping to find the answer to her question.
“We passed them when we were being seated. Right at the bottom of the steps, to the left.”
