Born To Be

21| Life

Chapter 21: Life (Evelyn's POV)

"Do you drink?" he asked. 

"Vodka," I nodded. 

He stared at me, his eyebrows shooting up. 

I cleared my throat while grabbing the menu, "Joking." 

"Really? I'm sure they have it if you... if you want," he shrugged. 

"No, no, I'm joking," I laughed. "I can have some wine, not too much." 

"I thought you were a lightweight," he nodded. 

"Excuse me?" I asked, acting offended. 

"You just are," he chuckled. 

A waiter came up. "Can I get you started with any drinks?" 

"Two glasses of white wine, Château," Archer smiled. 

The waiter nodded and then walked away. 

He turned his attention to me and asked, "So, tell me about yourself." 

"Ask me a question," I retorted. 

He chuckled, "Anything? At random?" 

I nodded in response. 

"All right, given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you like to have dinner with?" 

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Does this have to be a real person? It can't be a character?" 

"It could be a character," he shrugged. 

"Mr. Darcy," I answered. "I would really like to ask him who put a stick up his when he first met Elizabeth," I shrugged. "Or- even better, Mickey mouse. Just seems like he'd be good company." 

He laughed and nodded, appreciating my sense of humor. 

"What about you?" I asked. 

He thought for a moment. "Van Gogh." 

"Van Gogh? Why?" I questioned. 

"He seems like a mystery no one can solve. I believe he was murdered, don't you?" 

"Didn't he shoot himself? I know there are conspiracies but..." I trailed off. 

"I would like to wine and dine with him," he shrugged. 

"Okay," I chuckled. "All right, I have one. Do you ever have a hunch of how you are going to die?" 

"Dear God, Evelyn," he laughed, looking at me weirdly. He fell into thought. 

I watched him carefully while our wine was brought and set down in front of us. 

"I would hope it's of old age. But I have a feeling someone will stab me someday," he shrugged. "You?" 

"I feel like I would just die in my sleep. I can't picture myself dying another way. Unless Chloe does it first," I shrugged. 

He rolled his eyes, both of us taking our glasses and clinking them gently to cheers. 

I took a small sip and then set it back down. 

"Would you ever want to be famous?" he questioned. 

"No," I shook my head. "I would want to be rich." 

"Being famous can make you rich," he argued. 

"But being rich can also make you famous. It depends on what you prioritize, does it not?" I arched a brow at him.

"Fair enough, I yield," he nodded.