Chapter 2

#Chapter 2

Evelyn

Ivan and I chat for another twenty minutes. When the waiter appears with the bill. I take it faster than I enter a store offering a seventy percent discount.

Ivan isn't impressed by my move and scowls when I use my credit card and leave a tip in cash. Once I finish, we exit the restaurant.

Whenever we go out to eat, we fight over the bill like dogs over a bone.

Do we make a scene and attract others? Yes.

Does that make one of us back down? Absolutely not.

Have we stopped fighting in public? Technically, we had to.

Last year we went to a sushi restaurant for a celebration dinner. I had hit forty customers whilst Ivan had bought a new BMW i8 after years of drooling over the car—I mean that literally. The guy had been dreaming of it since high school, and when it arrived at his place, the whole neighborhood knew of Ivan Reyes' delirium. He arrived to work in it and took me out on a spin—but he didn't let me drive it.

We had a blissful night, talking and congratulating each other on our successes as we ate the food. It was all going well until the waitress came with the bill. Both of us reached for it at the same time and got engaged in a tug of war. Somehow during the tussle, the flute glass knocked over and cold red wine spilled over my purple dress, drenching the cloth.

In the moment of shock, my grip loosened and Ivan yanked the server book and grinned. The dampness leaked through the fabric and wet my thigh which ignited a flare of rage in me. I took his flute of champagne and threw the liquid across his chest in one clean move. The blue dress shirt clung to his skin and his nipples became visible through the material.

A victorious smile hung on my lips, as Ivan's mouth opened in surprise.

"Evelyn Melgren, you did not just stain my favorite shirt." His tone was crisp as the cold winter air.

"I most certainly did. You spilled wine on me first."

"It was an accident and clearly unintentional."

"Yeah well...mine was totally intentional. Now let me pay the bill." I proceeded to take the server book but he pinned me with a glare and raised his arm in the air before I could even touch the book.

"Come and get it then." My fingers ached and I got out of my chair and came towards him but he was already away from the table.

Before I could lunge at him the waitress got between us.

"Why don't you two split?"

Ivan and I both looked at her.

"We don't split," We said at the same time and then pointed fierce stares at each other.

"Well, you can this time since you're making a scene here. And I don't want our manager to be her—"

"What is going on here?" A strong masculine voice interrupted the waitress and the three of us—along with other sets of eyes, looked over at the old man with curly black hair dressed in a fine suit.

"Nothing significant sir. They're jus—"

"—creating a disturbance for the other people." His dark black eyes cut through Ivan and I and we both straightened up like children entering the principal's office.

"Please see me in the back," The intimidating manager whispered to us and we both followed him knowing that it was our fault.

"This is because of you. You should have just let me pay," Ivan hissed at me and I elbowed him in the ribs.

"You paid last time. And before that too. So it's only fair that I pay this time." Ivan scoffed at me.

We passed the kitchen and then turned into a hallway that had various abstract paintings attached to the glittering wallpaper. Instead of entering the office the manager stopped and turned toward us with an accusing stare and tight lips.

"Can you please fill me in on the fuss you two were brewing in my fucking restaurant?" For a manager, he was uptight.

"I know we're at fault but this is no way to talk to us Mr. Brendan," Ivan replied.

"This place caters to adults, not children." A vein in his forehead vibrated.

"We are adults," I added, and his dark eyes flew to mine.

"You were arguing, pulling the server book like a toy, splashing each other with wine while my incompetent waitress was standing there and doing nothing. We have a reputation, and high-profile people come here to dine. If you can't behave like well-mannered people then you both can take your leave and refrain from coming here again." His pointed chin tipped down in my direction, and his finger raised as he gestured between us.

Ivan pulled out a couple of dollars, put them inside the book, and slammed it shut.

"We're sorry." Handing him the book he took my wrist and we both stepped out in the heat of the summer.

"God I feel embarrassed," I said to no one in particular.

"Me too. Can't believe we got banned from a restaurant."

"All because of you."

Ivan glared at me. "You were equally involved."

I sighed.

"What was sticking up his ass? I can't believe he talks to customers like that. And he called the waitress incompetent. That was a lie. If anything she had been doing her job perfectly until the point where she warned us and that dickhead came through," Ivan grumbled as he kicked a rock.

"I know right? I'm sure he's hard on her."

"Hard on her? I think he gives her a hell of a time."

Suddenly I felt bad for that girl.

"Excuse me?" A sweet voice came from behind us and I turned only to see the waitress from earlier holding my purse.

"You left it inside." I took it from her with a grateful smile.

There was no way I was going inside after the stunt my best friend and I had just pulled.

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. I should head back inside."

"Is Mr. Brendan an asshole to you?" Ivan asked. I jabbed his arm.

"Huh?" The young girl sputtered and rubbed the side of her neck.

"Nevermind. I was just curious. Forget it." Ivan waved it off.

The woman walked inside without giving us a single glance. I hoped we hadn't upset her.

"Let's go and I'm paying next time. Don't pull this shit next time Ivan." I said.

"I won't. That was humiliating." I couldn't agree more.

"In fact, let's make a pact. Whoever gets the server book first pays. No bantering, spilling wine, and creating a scene." Ivan suggested.

"I can agree to that. But on one condition."

Ivan cocked one eyebrow.

"The same person can pay three times in a row. After that, it falls on the other person. This way no one will feel bad." His arms relaxed and he slung one of them over my shoulders.

"Fine, I agree," Ivan muttered.

"I agree second." We shook hands.

Since then we hadn't broken the pact, though we'd come close to creating a crack in it at times. After all, we were best friends.