Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
When I finally let her have her way, she turned to the hostess.
“Just let him have it,” Tasha stated graciously.
The hostess turned to her with a relieved smile. “We’ll get you seated as soon as we can. Thank you.” She turned to the man. “Right this way, Sir.”
The man turned his smug smile on us as the hostess led him to his seat which wasn’t too far away from where we were currently standing.
“Fuckin’ ugly cunt,” the man said, looking Tasha’s way.
I took a step forward, my intent to rearrange the little fuck’s face, but Tasha once again stayed my hand.
“Don’t.” She smiled. “I want to enjoy dinner with you.”
My eyes went back to the little asshole, and I willed myself to calm down.
The woman that sat down across from him looked terribly embarrassed.
And I felt sorry for her.
“You’re not a cunt, and you’re sure as hell not ugly,” I told Tasha.
She turned her face up to mine, and smiled. “Thanks. You’re not one, either.”
I laughed as I took her hand and led her back to the waiting area.
“Well, that was…interesting,” she said as we took a seat.
“Rude, was more like it. Man needs to learn some manners,” I growled.
Tasha nodded her head in agreement.
“He needs to learn a lot of things. Like how to treat women and how to act in public being at the top of the list,” Tasha agreed.
“I…” I started.
“Ma’am. Sir. We have a table ready for you now,” the hostess interrupted my reply, smiling.
We got up and followed her as she led us to our seat near where the creep was seated, but she put us in a booth instead of a table. It was situated against the windows and allowed me to see my bike.
Tasha scooted into the booth on the opposite side of me and smiled at the hostess that handed her a menu.
“Talia will be your server. She should be out any moment,” the hostess said before leaving.
I turned my head to study Tasha, taking in the other dress she’d been contemplating wearing to the wedding.
I liked this one better.
It showed off her beautiful breasts more.
Although I didn’t like the fact that she was showing them off to all the other men in the restaurant, it made it better to know that she was mine.
“What’s good here?” Tasha asked, looking up over her menu at me.
Her big brown eyes were wide and happy, making me feel on top of the world for putting that happiness there.
“Steak. And just wait for the rolls. They’re fucking fantastic,” I promised.
“Hmmm,” she hummed. “What about the chicken?”
I shrugged. “I’m a man, and this is a steakhouse. I’ve never ordered chicken here.”
She laughed at me before placing her menu down.
She would’ve replied, too, but the waitress showed up just as she was about to speak.
“Hi, I’m Talia. What can I get y’all to drink?” she chirped.
“Tea,” Tasha ordered.
“I’ll have whatever dark brew you have on tap,” I said.
She smiled and nodded. “I’ll be right back with those.”
She drifted away, and I caught sight of the thug from earlier glaring at us.
“Why don’t I got no service yet, bitch?” the thug yelled at the waitress’ back.
The waitress slowed down at his table and smiled. “You’re not in my section. But I’ll be happy to get you a drink. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a beer. She’ll have a water; she don’t need the extra calories,” the man sneered.
The restaurant became eerily quiet as everyone held their breath after what he’d just said.
I tensed, and Tasha reached over and grabbed my hand to keep me steady. Again.
“That was rude,” Tasha accused. “You don’t say stuff like that to women. Yours in particular.”
The man turned his face to Tasha. “I didn’t ask you what you thought.”
I closed my eyes and counted to a hundred, trying to calm my temper before it got the best of me.
I managed, but only barely.
It helped that everyone else turned back to their own plates, minding their own business.
I turned to Tasha and narrowed my eyes at her.
“Don’t instigate. It looks like he’s looking for a fight,” I ordered her.
She grimaced. “Sorry. I just…it slipped out.”
I snorted.
“I know. Guy’s a fucking douche bag. But you need to not interact with him,” I reiterated.
Now we were both keeping each other calm. It was bound to backfire.
She sighed. “Fine. I think I’ll get the steak, how about you?”
The waitress set our drinks down, along with a plate of rolls.
“Are y’all ready to order?” she chatted pleasantly as if the douche hadn’t snapped at her only minutes ago.
I could tell she was unnerved by the man whose drinks she’d just dropped off, and I knew I’d be giving her a good tip tonight.
“Yeah, we’re both gonna have the prime rib.”
Twenty minutes later, when our food arrived, the next incident occurred.