Distracting Memories

Shortly after arriving at Green Gardens and sitting around our reserved table, I learn that Christopher prefers and frequents it for personal meetings. It was no wonder he met with his home interior decorator the other day.

The waiters put each menu in front of us and I’m the last to pick mine.

Unlike Christian who orders more proteins, because he is probably trying to build more muscles, Stella orders a big bowl of salad, fruits, tomato sauce pasta, smoked salmon and water. I doubt I will have any space left on the table for my order.

Stella seems more relaxed and I don’t know if it’s because she is too pregnant to care. Whichever one it is, I bury my head in the menu and mind my business.

“Emily,” Christopher suddenly calls for me. “Have you learned from Stella how to make reservations and get a table for me even when there is none available?”

I almost think he is joking with me but when I see one or two lines on his forehead, I clear my throat and quickly answer him, “I’m sti