she would come up with an excuse to get out of it.
“Hey, Skittle. We were just getting ready to order some food. You remember Graham, right?”
She freezes before turning ever so slowly to face him with a fake brittle smile on her face.
“How could I possibly forget?” she questions, her tone saccharine sweet.
Graham stands, all-natural swagger and I don't give a fuck attitude, fixing his glare on Linda before offering her his hand.
She looks at it like it's covered in flesh-eating maggots.
“Nice to see you again, Laura,” the dickhead says, making me sigh.
I really should have known better.
“I wish I could say the same thing, asshat,” she answers, shaking his hand briefly before letting go.
I laugh at her words, enjoying the bemused look on Graham's face.
“That serves you right,” I tell him, but Linda just stares at me.
“You have no room to talk, Mr. Sloan. If I had known you were meeting with the devil, I would have taken a raincheck and left you two alone to talk business.”
I smile at her, knowing I’ll likely pay for this later. “It's not a business lunch, Skittle, and despite the fact that Graham is acting like a giant douche, he is my best friend and business partner. I want you guys to get along.”
She reaches over and cups my jaw, her bangles clinking together loudly.
“It's sweet that you believe in miracles, Asher. Tell me, do you still believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny?” she sasses, making Graham snort.
“Oh, come on, we can be civil to each other for poor old Asher here, right, Laura?” He smirks, offering Linda a fake as fuck olive branch.
“I suppose this is true. If your girlfriend can fake it, I'm sure I can too.”
“Hey, now!” he gripes, but I cut him off before he starts ranting.
“Now, now, children, play nicely. Let's just order some food and try not to kill each other with our silverware, please?” I scold them lightly.
Linda looks at me, her big blue eyes trying to melt me with imaginary laser beams before she sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Fine. Feed me, hubby, and I'll be far less hangry than I am now,” she concedes.
“You missed breakfast again, didn’t you?” I chastise, but she just shrugs and picks up the menu.
“Skittle, I get that once you start painting, you get sucked in and lose all sense of time. It happens to me all the time at work. But if you ate before you went into your art room, you wouldn't be able to forget, would you?” I rightly point out.
“Damn men and their logic,” she mutters as a waitress approaches our table.
All conversation stops while we order our food, the waitress scribbling furiously before leaving with a polite smile.
“So, Laura, how are things in the art world? I have to say, you are certainly more colorful than I remember.” Graham starts the conversation off in that passive-aggressive way of his, making me want to rethink my stance on using the silverware as a weapon.
“I'm flattered that you remember me at all. I guess that gives you a leg up on my husband at least,” she retorts, causing him throw his head back and laugh.
“Yes, well, I always was the better man of the two of us,” he adds.
“And then you had to ruin it by speaking. I see some things never change, huh?”
“Look, let's just leave the past in the past. I fired you because you were an awful secretary.”
Linda cuts him off by picking up a bread roll from the center of the table and launching it at his head. “Fire that, asshat. I was an awesome secretary, clue in. The problem wasn't with me or with the billion other secretaries who came through your doors before and after me. The problem is you. Talk about small man syndrome.”
I muffle her voice by placing a hand over her mouth. “I get it. You guys are like oil and water. You're never going to mix, but for the love of god, can we leave the bloodshed until later. I happen to like this place and would like to come back. And you,” I point at Graham, who tries to look innocent, “stop antagonizing her or I'll buy Chole a drum kit for her birthday and tickets to the next Justin Bieber concert.”
He glares at me. “Not cool, man, not cool,” he says with a shake of his head but wisely shuts up.
I slowly move my hand from Linda’s mouth and stare at