Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,51

their neighbor said.

He took a spoonful of his soup.

“Hmm. It’s all right, but I thought I made it clear that I wanted something very spicy,” he said to the hovering waiter.

The waiter nodded.

“You did, sir, you did. I would give it a few more spoonfuls before you judge.”

The man huffed and ate a few more spoonfuls in quick succession.

“Ah.” He nodded. His bald head shimmered under the restaurant lights. “That’s better. Very spicy, just as I like it.”

The waiter bowed.

“Very good, sir.”

The waiter came around to their table and filled up their water glasses. Malcolm kept glancing over at their neighbor, and he noticed Vivian did, too. He ate a few more bites of the soup, but his face got pinker and pinker. After a few minutes, he put his spoon down.

“Well,” he said to his date, “finally, a place where they listen to me about how I like my food to be served.” He picked up his full water glass and downed it. “I’m sure most people couldn’t handle even a bite of this soup.” Sweat formed on his forehead and dripped down his face. His head got even shinier. He picked up his date’s water glass without asking her and drank all of that, too. “Waiter! More water over here!”

Vivian looked at Malcolm, her eyes wide. Malcolm could tell they both knew exactly what was going on.

The waiter came over, with such a bland look on his face that Malcolm knew—if he’d had any doubt before—that the staff was just as irritated by this guy as he was.

“Certainly, sir. Is your soup to your liking?”

Their neighbor grabbed the water glass almost before the waiter had finished pouring.

“Mmmhmm,” he said as he drank both glassfuls on the table again.

Malcolm grinned at Vivian and poured them more wine.

Vivian was going to explode from all of her held-in laughter. This man next to them was clearly about to faint because of how spicy the food was, but he wouldn’t confess it for the life of him. If he hadn’t been so terrible before, she would have leaned over and told him that drinking water just made spicy food hotter, and instead he should eat some rice or bread or dairy to soothe himself. But instead, she just drank more wine and watched the show.

“You’ll have to tell me how you like the food,” Malcolm said, when their starters arrived. “I hope it’s not too spicy for you.”

She took a bite, then grinned at him.

“It is very spicy, but it’s perfect, thank you. Just enough to wake up my taste buds and make me a little giddy, but not enough to bring tears to my eyes.”

Malcolm looked away from her and coughed again. Their neighbor currently had tears streaming from his eyes, which he was attempting to disguise with his napkin. Even his date couldn’t stop staring at him. The best part was that his bravado wouldn’t allow him to stop eating the soup completely, so every so often he would take a deep breath and eat another spoonful, and his face just got redder and redder.

“Cameron, are you feeling all right?” his date finally asked him.

“Fine. Fine, couldn’t be better,” he said, his shirt wet with sweat.

She sat back and nodded and didn’t say anything else for a second.

“Well, I only asked because I’m not feeling that well. Would it trouble you too much if you took me home now? It’s possible something here didn’t agree with me.”

Ohhh, that was good. This woman knew how to deal with difficult men. Vivian shook her head. That was probably not a great thing for her; it most likely meant that poor woman had dealt with far too many difficult men in the course of her life, and she knew how to get them out of a situation they’d caused without injury to their ego. But still, she’d done it very well.

“Oh, of course I can take you home now! It’s this restaurant, I’m sure—I knew there was something wrong with this place as soon as we stepped foot inside. Waiter!”

The waiter was at his side within seconds.

“Yes, sir?”

“We have to leave immediately. Something was wrong with my guest’s meal, and she isn’t feeling well.” He threw his credit card down on the table. “Please bring us the bill this moment.”

The waiter bowed.

“Certainly, sir. And of course, there’s no charge for your food, only for the drinks.”

The man gulped another glass of water and waved him away.

Moments later, the waiter brought over the bill,