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Selene puts her phone away. She feels triumphant knowing her style and sense of fashion is rubbing off on her bodyguard. Or why else would Eve call and ask to borrow her clothes? She gladly acquiesced.
She taps her fingers on the table, impatient. This mysterious “"important business partner” will be late in two minutes and it’s making her anxious. Aranea was unnecessarily adamant about her accepting the dinner invitation but never bothered to tell whom it came from.
Selene sighs almost aloud and focuses on examining whether the dark polish on her nails looks impeccable.
“Oh. It’s you.”
The voice makes her skin crawl in a way that’s borderline creepy and enjoyable. She doesn’t say a word lest her confusion and anger would boil over.
Ravus has an unreadable look on his face as he takes a seat.
He should’ve guessed that cunning manager-woman would come up with something like this. She seemed like a real people-person and is probably laughing like a movie villain somewhere.
Ravus ignores the actress’ icy stare and nonchalantly motions the waiter over. He orders two apéritifs and opens the decorated menu without even glancing at Selene.
“Are you going to fire her?” Ravus asks, feigning disinterest.
Selene relaxes from her stiff pose and carefully folds her arms on the table. She is not often caught so drastically unaware.
“No. But she will hear from this. What did they tell you?” she replies. Every word is carefully selected as she is still figuring out what kind of approach to choose.
Ravus almost chuckles and the light half-smile causes unwanted tingles on Selene’s body. “That this would be beneficial for my career.”
Selene clicks her tongue. “Riiight.”
Whether that is true or not, she doesn’t even want to begin guessing. The thought of leaving before the waiter can inquire what would they like to order leaps to her mind, but she immediately crosses that out. She isn’t one to back out on a battle. Also the pettiness of getting revenge on Aranea by proving her wrong is too deliciously tempting.
Selene would never admit she can feel the ghost of the heat their acted kiss raised in her. The smell of gentle sylleblossoms is taunting.
As soon as the waiter brings their apéritifs, Selene pours it down her throat in a very un-ladylike manner. An almost cruel grin forms on her red lips.
“So. I know a few people. But I’m not sure you can afford their friendship. Or the introduction, for that matter,” she says casually.
Ravus hides his smile to himself. Maybe the evening won’t be a waste after all.