Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

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 cby."

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 ssteak.

to enjoy this kind of food. Even if it's from the local bay,

Have swith me."

"Sure."

further hesitation, the two strangers, having met just once before, began to dine in

of her eye. He ate with measured grace,

impeccable, not what one might expect from a waiter. In fact, he seemed

sof the trust-fund brats

when holding the silverware,

her chin up, she couldn't help but keep her gaze on him—from his hands to the defined line

his shirt.

more she liked; Felix seemed dressed just for her, hitting

Felix put his

"What's up?"

be but the handsboy

thought she was hungry, but now she

the clock on the wall, Felix realized how late it had

to start my

won't keep you. I've got to head to work too. Hey, next tyou're at

lots of leftovers, which are pretty good. I snack

was making it up as she went along—when had she ever dined on

an eyebrow,

seemed to bewitch Carol, making her cheeks flush with

look out the window, waving him off. "Off you go, then. The life of a worker bee, it

cup of warm tea,

him, Carol touched her burning

fanned herself with a menu,

the cool breeze

thoughts of him, particularly the image of his hands holding the cutlery and the

which she so wanted to tug loose, kept drifting into her

she saw him again, it was at the BlueSky