Dear Ex-wife, Marry Me novel Chapter 1691

The restaurant had only been open a short while, specializing in upscale exotic cuisine and had drummed up quite a buzz with a members-only gimmick that drew in the well-heeled crowd.

Leaning in close, Carol whispered in his ear, "But between us, are their ingredients really all imported?"

Her breath tickled his ear, and he turned his head to avoid her, remaining silent.

Carol drew back, nonchalant.

"Guess not," she mused. "Must be from around the local bay, right?"

Felix rubbed his temples with a wry smile. "Ms. Miller, if we keep at this, I'm afraid I'll be job hunting soon."

Resting her chin in her palm, Carol's lips curved into a smile.

"So what if you are? It's not like waiting tables is hard to come by."

The words were out before she could stop them, and she instantly regretted them.

She noticed Felix purse his lips—a sign she was learning meant displeasure.

And her comment, unfiltered as it was, sounded downright insulting.

She quickly apologized, "Sorry, I didn't mean you specifically. I'm a waitress too, working at a barbecue restaurant. I've been at five different places now. It's easy to find this kind of work in Greenfield; it's a big city, with lots of demand."

Felix chuckled softly, apparently not taking offense to her earlier remark.

Eager to make amends, Carol reached for the serving fork and offered him some steak.

"We're both in the same boat. It's not often we get to enjoy this kind of food. Even if it's from the local bay, it's not exactly cheap. Have some with me."

"Sure."

With no further hesitation, the two strangers, having met just once before, began to dine in quiet companionship.

Carol watched Felix out of the corner of her eye. He ate with measured grace, the sound of his fork barely audible against the plate. His manners were impeccable, not what one might expect from a waiter. In fact, he seemed to have been raised with more decorum than some of the trust-fund brats she knew.

His fingers were attractive, especially when holding the silverware, almost alluring.

Propping her chin up, she couldn't help but keep her gaze on him—from his hands to the defined line of his throat, to the collar of his shirt.

The more she looked, the more she liked; Felix seemed dressed just for her, hitting all the right notes of her aesthetics.