Page 14 of Mistaken Prejudice

“Says about what? I’m not sick.” Reaching my hand to snap his phone away, I was caught off guard by a cough.

“Are you ready to order?”

I turned to look at the waiter, who had perfect timing, and almost swallowed my tongue. Coincidence is a bitch.

Andrei

I knew today was going to be shitty, but not bumping into the guy I tried to avoid the whole week at work kind of shitty. But I guess I did something in my past life to piss off fate ’cause here I was, waiting to take Miles’s orders. By the look on his face, I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling awkward about this encounter. His skin was paler than usual, and he looked at me with wide-open aqua eyes. Shock was written all over his beautiful face.

Someone spoke French, and it got me looking away from Miles. Only then did I notice he was with someone else, a guy. If it weren’t for how alike the two of them looked, I would have gotten jealous, but given that they looked like a replica of each other, I ruled out the option of this being a date. The other man looked older but had the same striking beauty as Miles. Dark wavy hair decorated his gentle pale frame. Pink mouth shaped like a Cupid’s bow, and deep aqua eyes, almost the exact same color as Miles’s. The only difference was Miles’s eyes being a little bit darker.

“Stop talking, please,” Miles whispered through gritted teeth before turning to face me. “Please forgive my dad. He sometimes forgets it’s rude to speak a different language in front of someone who can’t understand it.”

Holy shit. That’s his dad?! He looked more like his older brother. Yep, Miles definitely won the genetic lottery.

“Oops, désolé.” A thick accent decorated his words like a soft melody. “I did not mean to be rude, mon grand. But my son turned red like a tomato, and I was a curious cat. I only asked who you are.” He spoke fast and with enthusiasm, unlike Miles, who tried to disappear under the table.

“Tu vois?” He pointed toward Miles, who flushed red. “You See?”

Despite everything, I felt bad for the guy, so I offered him an escape. “So do you two know what you would like to order?”

Miles’s dad picked up the menu. “So what do you want, mon lapin? The lobster or do you want the espadon?”

“I’m not hungry. Can we just go home?”

“Oh no, bébé! You really are sick?” He put down the menu and leaned toward Miles to check his fever, only for his son to quickly dismiss the gesture.

“If you want, I can ask for someone else to be your waiter,” I offered while looking at mortified Miles, who still hadn’t looked me in the eyes.

“Oh no, Andrei, it’s fine,” he said, and I saw the exact moment he regretted saying my name ’cause, in the next second, his dad gasped in the most dramatic way possible. He said something to Miles in French, from which all I could understand was my name. Miles responded to his father with a quick yes. Call me a genius, but I figured today wasn’t the first time my name popped up in their conversation.

“Andrei! You are the famous Andrei!” His dad put his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. “No wonder my Miles is so, how do you say it, obsessed with you! Look how beautiful you are! Tu es si beau. So handsome.”

Miles shifted in his chair a little farther down, and I tried not to laugh.

“Oh my God!” His dad suddenly gasped and reached forward to grab my hand. “I did not introduce myself. Elliot Williams Dufort.” He shook my hand. “I am this little one’s papa. Miles, sit up straight!”

Miles straightened up in his chair but still didn’t look at me. Something about his reaction made me question everything I thought about him this week. Right now, he didn’t look pretentious or snobby. He looked awkward and embarrassed, and adorable.

“It’s nice meeting you, Mr. Williams Dufort.” I released his hand just in time to catch Miles looking at me.

He whispered, “I’m sorry,” and I offered him a smile that made him flush even redder, if that was possible.

“I just want you to know, Andrei,” Elliot started saying, “that even though what Miles did was not okay, and I told him that you can’t cancel a date at the last minute, goosing someone is not okay.”

“Ghosting, Papa! It’s ghosting, not goosing, and oh my God, please stop,” Miles said as he covered his face with his hands.

“What? I am being honest.” Elliot waved his hands as if it was the most natural thing to say. “You young ones with all your texts! Where is the romance?” He emphasized the romance by shaking his body. “Have I told you about that time I was eighteen in the Riviera and a beautiful man—”

“Yes, Papa. You have. Many, many times,” Miles whined. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and turned to face me. “We’ll have the Billfish.”

I nodded and held up my tablet to type down their order. After they both ordered their food and drinks, I put the tablet back in my apron’s front pocket. “I’ll be back shortly with your drinks.” Despite wanting to stay and watch Miles get all flustered and embarrassed, I flashed them a quick smile and left.

***

“When is table five’s order ready?” I asked the kitchen crew as I grabbed their drinks from the bar.

“Three minutes,” the cook shouted back.