Page 23 of Her Unflinching Warrior (Omega Sky)
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“I thoughtwe were going to be having brunch at the hotel.”
“Are you disappointed?” Gideon asked.
“Uhm, not with a flight of bourbon for brunch. This beats the hell out of mimosas any day of the week,” Jada giggled. “Thank God you’re sharing it with me.”
Gideon raised his eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe you’re not. But this is good. Did you taste this one?” Jada pointed to the empty glass.
Again, Gideon raised his eyebrow.
“You should have.” She pointed to the name. “It has hints of maple syrup, vanilla, and candied nuts.”
“I like the name,” Gideon said. “Angel’s Envy.”
“What are you drinking?” Jada asked.
“Gianna’s grandpappy suggested that I try some Blanton’s, so that’s what I’m doing.” He took another sip, then nodded to her empty four glasses. “I don’t think I can keep up with you, Angel.”
“They were just tiny little drippy drops of bourbon,” she assured him. Then blushed as she covered her mouth as she hiccupped.
“Was that me?” she giggled. “It must have been the eggs benedict.”
“Must have been,” he agreed solemnly.
Jada stifled a giggle. She looked over Gideon; there he sat in a white t-shirt that molded across a chest that made her drool, and he sat there with an air of command that had not been lost on the hostess when he’d given her his name for their reservations. Jada would have been fine if all she had to do was throw a little shade at the little blonde teenager, but oh, no, things had to getreal.
“I can seat you right now,” the hostess said as she gave Gideon a blinding smile. She started to pull out their menus and a middle-aged man who could’ve passed as the hostess’s father—except for the fact he didn’t know how to smile—nudged her a little bit to the side. He looked Gideon up and down then stared down at the hostess stand.
“Which reservation is his?” he asked the hostess. Clearly, he was the boss.
The young girl pointed to the marked-up book that had many names, times, and lines drawn through them. She then looked back up at the self-important little fellow. “Smith, for eleven a.m.,” she said. Jada could clearly see Gideon’s reservation in the book.
He brushed the girl aside and then swept his glance between Gideon and Jada. “When did you make your reservation? Usually, we have a two-week waiting list for brunch, and I don’t remember a Smith on our list.”
Is he kidding?
Jada did a quick sweep of the restaurant. They weren’t the only people of color, nor was Gideon the most dressed-down person, but he was the only black man in jeans. Jada looked over at the hostess who looked both resigned and mortified. Apparently, this wasn’t her first rodeo with this clown.
“A friend put me on the list this morning,” Gideon said with an easy smile.
“That wouldn’t happen, because that’s against policy here at Slade’s.” The manager pulled the menus from the flustered hostess and looked down at the reservation list on the stand. He then called out for the Parkers.
A clearly uncomfortable couple came up to the stand. “Weren’t they here before us?” the man asked.
“There was a mistake. I’m rectifying it,” the asshole said as he picked up a pencil and crossed out both Parker and Smith, as if he were seating both parties.
Fucker.
Gideon sighed, pulled out his cell phone, and sent a text. The snooty manager walked away with the Parkers following him.
“I’m so sorry,” the young hostess said. “He’s my boss.” Shit, Jada thought that she might start to cry.
“Don’t worry about it, Miss,” Gideon smiled.
Jada looked at Gideon curiously. He was taking this pretty damn well. Too damn well, if you asked her. But it was clear he wasn’t leaving.
