Page 75 of Wrecked By You
Johannes waved him away with a flick of his wrist. The man backed up, murmuring apologies. I opened my menu and almost choked. These prices were insane. I’d eaten in nice restaurants with Mateo, but nothing as exorbitant as this.
“Johannes, have you seen—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” he interrupted. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“But—”
“One more word and I will bend you over my knee.” He arched a brow, making me laugh.
“I’m not five.”
His eyes met mine and slowly traveled down until they landed on my cleavage. “No, you most certainly are not.”
I wriggled in my seat. “Stop it.”
“Not a chance.”
He dragged his gaze away and opened his menu. Seconds later, he closed it with a snap.
“What are you having?” I asked.
“Arancini followed by pappardelle mimmo.”
I’d eaten arancini, but I’d never heard of that entrée.
“What’s that?”
“It’s pasta with lobster, scallops, and truffle. Delicious.”
My mouth watered. “It sounds it. I’ll have the same.”
He smirked. “Good choice.”
Beckoning to the server, he put in our food order and requested a bottle of wine and some mineral water.
Bet even that costs more than my dress.
I shook out my napkin and tried to tell myself that Johannes didn’t seem to care how I was dressed or how much my outfit cost. Apart from the few moments when he’d perused the menu, he hadn’t taken his eyes off me since we’d sat down. And every time I met the intensity of his fierce ice-blue gaze, I found myself pressing my thighs together to relieve the ache between my legs. I’d have thought the orgasm in the limo would’ve helped.
Seems not.
The arancini was divine, and as the server placed the entrée in front of me and the delicious smells reached my nose, my mouth filled with saliva. But before I could dig in, someone called my name.
My real name.
Eloise.
Not Ella.
My entire body froze as I searched for the source of my potential destruction. Oh shit. Bustling toward me was a girl I’d gone to school with. Arabella Finlay. Back then, she’d had a big mouth and an even bigger rack, and nothing had changed.
How is this happening?
“Oh my God! It is you!” she screeched, drawing the attention of the entire restaurant. I slid down in my chair, praying for the expensive oak flooring to open up and suck me into the bowels of hell.
“What are the chances, Eloise?” She leaned over to hug me, crushing me with her enormous breasts and treating me as if we’d been besties when, in fact, she’d not thought me worthy enough to include in her circle of bullies. “You look amazing, darling. Amazing.” She ran her gaze over me. “Dior? Gucci? No, don’t tell me. It’s Valentino, isn’t it?”
Forcing a small smile, I nodded. “Great guess, Arabella. You look… well.”