Damien Blackwood walked into the restaurant and immediately noticed a familiar face sitting at the table he had booked. Curiosity piqued, he approached and pulled out a chair.
"What do you think you are doing?" Elizabeth asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I have a date," he replied, sitting down in front of her, still wondering who she was and why she was there.
Have a date, have a disease, I don't care. Get away from here. My date could be here anytime soon," Elizabeth said, her tone sharp.
It's you, isn't it? From the boutique, Damien said, finally recognizing her.
Will you just leave? This is my table, she insisted.
This table is reserved under the name Blackwood. I think you've got the wrong table, he explained. Elizabeth paused, looking at him intently.
"Are you..
