What We Do in the Night (Day to Night #1) - Stylo Fantome Page 0,62
day.”
“Yes! Yes, let's do that,” Ralph nodded his head eagerly. Valentine almost snorted out loud. The man was forty pounds overweight, at least, and had asthma. She doubted he'd ever played tennis in his life. “I'll have my secretary give you a call.”
Ari simply nodded before turning to walk away, but before his back was completely turned, he gave Val a wink at the last second. Then he disappeared off to his own table.
There was a bit of an awkward silence as Harper stared longingly after him. Ralph seemed unsure of whether or not he should take his seat. When he finally did, she snapped back to attention and turned her wrath on Valentine once again.
“I had to come say hi because I was just super surprised to see you here,” she started, and Valentine almost groaned. She recognized the look on her face – it was the same one the bully wore in every high school movie ever. The I'm threatened by you and I'm going to make you pay for it look.
“Me, too,” Valentine laughed. “Thanks for saying hi, but we don't want to take up any more of your date night. I'll see you on-”
“I just know you don't have a lot of money, so a night like tonight must really be putting you out,” Harper continued with the jabs. “I'm sure you'll be able to return the dress tomorrow, though, if you're careful with it.”
Ralph frowned at the comment, but Valentine just smiled and laughed some more.
“It would be an expensive night for me, you're right,” she agreed. “So it's a good thing I have a lovely date who's willing to take pity on a poor helpless girl like myself.”
She leaned across the table and caressed Ralph's hand, and he lit up like a Christmas tree, grinning at her.
“No pity here, Val,” he said, lifting the back of her hand to his lips.
“Whatever,” Harper snorted. “I'll see you on Tuesday.”
The blonde stomped off across the restaurant, flicking her hair as she went.
“I take it that wasn't a friend of yours,” Ralph murmured. Valentine stared after the blonde for a moment, then shook her head.
“No. I hardly know her. She's just someone I go to school with.”
“Well, her father is the deputy mayor, and her mother heads some of the most successful charities in all of Illinois,” he filled her in. “And the man talking to me was Ari Sharapov, he's practically Chicago royalty. His father helped found one of the most prestigious law firms in the country. His mother was a Miss Illinois and a U.N. ambassador, and his grandfather was a governor.”
That's where all his attitude had come from – entitlement was literally bred into Ari's DNA. He expected to always get what he wanted mainly because he'd probably always gotten it.
“Stuff like that bores me,” Valentine said, waving her hand through the air. “And so do people like them. We're here for us. You were talking about something, your cabin?”
Ralph launched back into a story about fishing, and Valentine managed to hold herself together for fifteen whole minutes. Then when their entrees were delivered, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. She kissed him on the cheek as she walked past, then took her time as she strutted across the restaurant floor, wanting to give anyone who might be looking quite the show.
When she got to the ladies room, though, she all but fell through the door. A bathroom attendant jumped out of her chair, asking if she was alright.
“I'm fine,” she groaned. “Just bumped into a blonde nightmare.”
“Oh,” the attendant laughed. “One of those, huh?”
“Rich people are the worst,” Valentine growled, moving to lean back against a sink. “You know? They just think they can talk to you however they want. Fuck them.”
“I couldn't agree more.”
She was ready to go off on another tangent, but then the door burst open once again. Ari strode into the room, startling both of them.
“Sir, this is the ladies -” the attendant started.
“Leave,” he ordered her, though his eyes never left Valentine's.
The attendant looked unsure for a moment. Val rolled her eyes, but she eventually nodded her head, signaling that it was okay. The attendant nodded back, then demurely left the room.
“A little dramatic,” Val said once the door had shut.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he demanded.
She belatedly realized he was angry. Ari Sharapov was very, very angry. She glanced around the room.