Page 126

ME:CELINE

ME:LEAVE

ME:NOW

I keep sending texts, hoping that she will feel the vibration because she always has her phone on silent, which is a detriment to my current situation. Verity chats with the hostess, the smile on her face absolutely breathtaking. I don’t understand how the entire restaurant hasn’t immediately noticed her walk in. A woman like her shines like a star in the dark night sky.

I let out a groan, mourning the loss of the date I’ve been looking forward to.

“What? I thought you loved sea bass?”

My gaze bullets back to Celine and the server.

Fuck.

“I had food poisoning recently, bad fish.”

It’s a shit, last-minute excuse.

Celine can smell the lie, her eyes narrowing from practice. That is the unfortunate part of being in a relationship with someone for over a decade; there will always be a sliver of them that will recognize your soul.

“The amuse-bouche is supposed to be amazing here. Why don’t we start with that?” I give her a nonchalant shrug, trying to throw her off the scent.

It doesn’t quite quell her curiosity, but it staves it off enough that she turns back to the server and places the order, along with the restaurant’s signature egg toast with caviar.

She appears to be determined to make a dent in my wallet this afternoon.

I check in with the host stand, panic clogging my throat as I watch the hostess grab a menu and begin to walk Verity over.

It’s only then that my girlfriend checks her phone, feet slowing and brows furrowing as she scrolls. I have no doubt that my texts seem incoherent, but at least they’re giving her pause.

She stops in her tracks, baby blues bouncing around the restaurant until they land on me. She gives me a confused look, wiggling her phone in the air as if to say, “What’s this about?”

I try to subtly indicate to Celine with my eyes, while also keeping track of the conversation so Celine doesn’t realize what I’m doing.

Fuck, this is a mess.

Verity finally notices the woman in the seat before me, her skin turning white as snow. I can feel the immediate panic radiating from her body.

Celine must notice something as well, because she turns her head.

Verity drops to the ground, lips pulling in a grimace, and she miraculously throws herself behind a table of four businessmen.

“What are you looking at?”

“I thought I noticed a client.”

“Oh?” She doubles down, giving the room a proper perusal.

“Wasn’t them.”

It takes another few seconds before she is satisfied with her analysis. Her brows pull together as much as the Botox will allow, eyes narrowing with slight judgement as she returns her focus to me.

“You’re acting strangely.”

“Well, how do you want me to act, Celine? You’re the one interrupting my lunch.”

“You should be grateful that I’m being civil after you invaded my space first, turning up at the Kelton event. I could’ve stormed in here and kicked up a fuss, could’ve shown up at that newlittle apartment you bought or even attended one of those open houses and torn down your pristine reputation.”