Chapter 14. Scarlett

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Scarlett P.O.V

"Are you ready to order?" The young, pimply-faced waiter asks as he steps up to our table with a bright and welcoming smile. Jae, according to the silver name badge attached to his crisp white shirt.

"Yes, I would like the steak, medium rare, with asparagus and garlic mashed potatoes," Ebony rattles off after a quick peek at the menu.

She didn't need longer than that to know what she wanted. And honestly, neither did I. We'd visited plenty enough times to know it by heart. The quaint little diner wasn't far from The Rook, establishing it as the perfect meet-up spot for lunch breaks. Plus, the food was pretty decent, too. Compared to the food stalls infesting every street within a quarter mile of The Rook, it was like manna from heaven.

"And for you?" Jae asks, after jotting down her order on the small notepad he'd retrieved from his apron pocket.

"Just the house salad and a virgin strawberry daiquiri."

"Ooh, that sounds good. I'll have one too. But make sure to leave the alcohol in mine. Alright?" She says, her saccharine sweet smile full of mischief as she hands him her menu.

He accepts her menu with a smile before collecting mine, too. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be right back with your drinks."

She nods as he heads off to the kitchen. And once we're alone, she turns to me. "All you're getting is a salad. Are you sure you don't want something else? It's my treat."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I need to head back to work after this. So something light will do."

"Light? After listening to your patients whine on and on about their problems all day. I could never."

"My-" Our waiter reappears, setting down our drinks before us. At our appreciative smiles, he responds in kind with a nod of his own before leaving us alone once more. "My patients don't whine."

She picks up her glass and shoots me a pointed look over the rim.

"Okay, maybe a few do," I mutter, looking off to the side out the large windows.

A group of businessmen with their hair slicked back and briefcases swinging down by their side stride past, their steps purposeful and gazes focused straight ahead.

Ebony hums, pleased with herself at my confession.

I turn back just as she tilts her glass back for a sip, and her face suddenly pales. She sets her glass down, spilling a bit, and bolts from the table with her hand covering her mouth as she releases a wretched gagging sound.

"Ebony!" I call after her as the entire restaurant falls silent.

Every head turns my way, the weight of their burning stare making me slightly embarrassed. But to hell with them, I grab our purses and rush after her.

Violent retching sounds hit my ears as I push open the bathroom door. My own stomach churns, but I push down the sudden wave of nausea and continue.

"Ebony?" I call again, bypassing the empty stalls for the large one at the end.

She doesn't reply, only continues to puke her lungs out. Joining her in the stall, I hold her hair back until she stops.

"Ugh," she groans, leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed.

I flush the toilet and press a wad of tissue into her hand. "Are you okay?"

She nods, wiping her mouth. "I am now. I think I just ate something that didn't agree with me."

"Like what? Chance's cooking?" I ask with utmost seriousness while trying to suppress my grin.

"Hey!" She playfully swats my leg before pushing up to her feet. "My man's...improving."

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