Romance Warfare: a Tigress' Guide to NOT Secure a Mate(18)
Right. Because Eva is well-known for being rational.
Adam checked his watch and sighed, impatient to get on with the evening. He patted his pocket again, making sure the ring he’d taken from his vault was still there. He couldn’t wait to see what the antique, ruby-and-diamond, art-deco ring would look like on her finger. It was a family heirloom, and once belonged to his mother, his grandmother, and his great-grandmother before that. He inherited it to be passed down to the woman who’d be his bride. He glanced at his watch again. She was ten minutes late. Looking back toward the door, his face clouded instantaneously. Fuck. His troublesome cousin, Dean. What the hell is he doing here?
Dean waltzed into the restaurant like he owned the place, shaking his head clear of raindrops from the light drizzle that was starting outside. Adam watched as he slanted a flirty half-grin at the hostess, leaning over her stand and running a hand up her arm. The flustered girl smiled up at him and fluttered her eyelashes at him before checking her book and nodding. With good looks and a debonair attitude, Dean had the uncanny talent to charm every woman he met. When the hostess picked up two thick, leather-bound menus, Dean turned and gestured to someone behind him. That was when Adam noticed the woman standing behind Dean.
You have got to be kidding.
Rachel Morgan was standing behind Dean, one hand clutching his elbow possessively. Adam groaned inwardly. This has got to be another of Dean’s little jokes. Adam was wondering if he could get in a call to Eva and stop her before she got there. Eva hated Rachel. Hard core.
Adam thumbed open his phone and was scrolling for Eva’s number when a shadow fell over his table. Dean and Rachel were standing over him. Adam dropped the phone when Rachel squealed his name.
“Oh my God, Dean, it’s Adam,” she shrilled.
Adam gave her a cold smile. “Hi, Rachel.” He wondered if he could plead temporary insanity if he jumped and strangled Dean to death right then. His cousin needed to be murdered in the most heinous way possible.
Adam gave a her a cursory glance, noting her dyed and permed hair was a pale imitation of Eva’s natural fiery-red curls, before turning to Dean.
“What are you doing here, Dean?” His tone was so cold it could freeze fire.
“Well, I’m here for dinner, of course. Rachel,” he said cheerily, giving her a quick hug “just so happened to be in town and agreed to join me. Fancy meeting you here, though.”
Fancy meeting me here, my ass. He must have planned the whole thing just to complicate my life. Dean’s knowing smile belied his words. Adam took a sip of his water and looked away, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold in his anger. He didn’t like to make scenes in a public place.
He seriously contemplated the murdering-Dean-thingy, though.
Rachel, on the other hand, had never minded being in the public eye. Oblivious to Adam’s indifference, she slid in the banquette next to him, grabbing his arm and snuggling up closely, her pushed-up breasts pressing into his biceps. She was babbling, running over with nonsense. “I haven’t seen you in years, you still look good, Adam. Are you seeing anybody? I heard your aunt got remarried last summer, how come I wasn’t invited?”
Adam ignored her completely. Instead, he speared Dean with a tense look. “So, this is what it’s come too?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean answered with a straight face.
Adam pulled at his arm, trying to dislodge it from Rachel’s grasping hands but she only pressed more tightly into him. Her perfume was overpowering his sensitive olfactory senses. He was so busy trying to extract himself from her crimson-tipped claws that he didn’t notice Dean loudly clearing his throat. The noise finally get his attention and he looked up to see Dean jerking his head toward the door, a smirk playing across his mouth.
Holy f*cking hell.
Eva was standing ten feet away, her mouth drawn up tight, eyes flashing fire at Adam.
“Shit, Eva.” Adam tried to push Rachel off and get up from the table, but the woman had a death grip on his arm. Eva took a shaky step back when Rachel squealed again.
“Evaaaaa! I haven’t seen you since high school. Come join us! Isn’t it so much fun to see old friends, Adam?” She gave his arm a possessive squeeze.
Adam finally managed to push free of the octopus clinging to him, stumbling over the chair before standing up, straightening his jacket. His hand automatically reached into his pocket to touch the ring nestled there.
“Eva,” he said “I…”
Eva flipped a very decisive, very adamant finger at him, giving it a firm shake for emphasis, before spinning on her heel and storming out of the restaurant.
Adam ran after her, pushing through the crowds around the hostess stand, out into the evening air. He looked up and down the sidewalk but didn’t see her. A quick search of the line of cabs outside proved fruitless as well. He headed back inside, his gut a roiling mix of anger and fear.
Dean was sitting at his table with Rachel draped over his lap, a drink in his hand. He patted the seat next to him and smiled at Adam. “Have a seat. You look like you could use a drink.”
“I’ll pass,” growled Adam.
“But you’re still going to have dinner with us, yes?” asked Rachel. She bounced to her feet. “I think I’m going to powder my nose a bit before we order.” She snatched her purse and sashayed toward the restroom.